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

"The Double Life Of Mr. Alfred Burton"

He turned in his
chair a little impatiently. Then his pen slipped from his fingers. His
left hand gripped the side of the table, his right hand the arm of his
chair. It was a dream, of course!
"I hope we do not disturb you, Mr. Burton?" the professor inquired,
with anxious amiability. "My daughter and I were in the neighborhood
and I could not resist the visit. We had some trouble at first in
finding you."
Burton rose to his feet. He was looking past the professor, straight
into Edith's eyes. In her white muslin gown, her white hat and flowing
white veil, she seemed to him more wonderful, indeed, than any of those
cherished fancies of her which had passed through his room night and day
to the music of his thoughts.
"I am glad," he said simply. "Of course I am glad to see you! Please
come in. It is very untidy here. I have been hard at work."
He placed chairs for them. The professor glanced around the room with
some satisfaction. It was bare, but there was nothing discordant upon
the walls or in the furniture. There were many evidences, too, of a
scholarly and cultivated taste. Edith had glided past him to the window
and was murmuring her praises of the view.
"I have never seen a prettier view of the river in my life," she
declared, "and I love your big window.


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