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

"A Prince of Sinners"

Yet there
were times, as he knew, when she was capable of seriousness.
"I am glad," he said, "Lord Arranmore will miss you."
She laughed at him, her eyebrows raised, a challenge in her bright eyes.
"May I add that I also shall?" he whispered.
"You may," she answered. "In fact, I expected it. I am not sure that I
did not ask for it. And that reminds me. I want you to do me a favour,
if you will."
"Anything I can do for you," he answered, "you know will give me
pleasure."
She laughed softly.
"It is wonderful how you have improved," she murmured. "I want you to
go and see Lord Arranmore as often as you can. We are both very fond of
him really, mamma especially, and you know that he has a very strange
disposition. I am convinced that solitude is the very worst thing for
him. I saw him once after he had been alone for a month or two, and
really you would not have known him. He was as thin as a skeleton,
strange in his manner, and he had that sort of red light in his eyes
sometimes which always makes me think of mad people. He ought not to be
alone at all, but the usual sort of society only bores him.


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