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

"The Double Life Of Mr. Alfred Burton"

"Just a bite of bread and
cheese since, with my morning beer."
"Nothing since--not anything at all?" Burton pressed.
"I picked up a funny-colored bean and ate it, a few minutes ago. Queer
flavor it had, too. Nothing else that I can think of."
Burton looked at the man and down at his barrow. He glanced around at
the neighborhood in which he had to make a living. Then he groaned
softly to himself.
"Good luck to you!" he murmured, and turned away.

CHAPTER XI
THE GATE INTO PARADISE
The girl looked up from her seat wonderingly. His coming had been a
little precipitate. His appearance, too, betokened a disturbed mind.
"There is a front door," she reminded him. "There are also bells."
"I could not wait," he answered simply. "I saw the flutter of your gown
as I came along the lane, and I climbed the wall. All the way down I
fancied that you might be wearing blue."
A slight air of reserve which she had carefully prepared for him, faded
away. What was the use? He was such an extraordinary person! It was
not possible to measure him by the usual standards. She was obliged to
smile.
"You find blue--becoming?"
"Adorable," he replied, fervently. "I have dreamed of you in blue.


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