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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"A Prince of Sinners"

I've
washed my hands of her now. She must look after herself. A girl who
refuses one of the richest young men in England because she didn't like
his collars is incorrigible."
"It was not his collars, mother," Sybil objected. "It was his neck. He
was always called 'the Giraffe.' He had no head and all neck--the most
fatuous person, too. I hate fools."
"That is where you lack education, dear," Lady Caroom answered. "A fool
is the most useful person--for a husband."
Sybil glanced towards Brooks with a little sigh, and, catching a glimpse
of his expression, burst out laughing.
"Mother, you must really not let your tongue run away with you. Mr.
Brooks is believing every word you say. You needn't," she murmured in a
discreet undertone. "Mother and I chaff one another terribly, but we're
really very nicely-behaved persons--for our station in life."
"Lady Caroom has such a delightfully easy way of romancing," Brooks
said.
Sybil nodded.
"It's quite true," she answered. "She ought to write the prospectuses
for gold mines and things."
Arranmore smiled across the table at Brooks.


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