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

"A Prince of Sinners"

" How delightful it sounded. She felt
a warm rush of pleasure at the thought. They would want her badly at
Stepney, but "This evening?" she asked.
"Yes. No, hang it, it can't be this evening. I'm dining with the
Carooms--nor to-morrow evening. Say Thursday evening, will you?"
Something seemed suddenly to chill her momentary gush of happiness.
"Well," she said, "I think not just yet. We have several fresh girls,
you know--it is a bad time to be away. Perhaps you will ask me later
on."
He laughed softly.
"What a funny girl you are, Mary. You'd really rather stew in that hot
room, I believe, than go anywhere to enjoy yourself. Such women as you
ought to be canonized. You are saints even in this life. What can be
done for you in the next?"
Mary bit her lip hard, and she bent low over the tea-cups. In another
moment she felt that her self-control must go. Fortunately he drifted
away from the subject.
"Very soon," he said, "we must all have a serious talk about the future.
The management is getting too big for me. I think there should be a
council elected--something of the sort must be done, and soon.


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