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

"The Double Life Of Mr. Alfred Burton"

It is almost like living out of
doors, this. And how industrious you have been!"
She pointed to the sea of loose sheets which covered the table and the
floor. He smiled. He was beginning to recover himself.
"I have been working very hard," he admitted.
"But why?" she murmured. "You are young. Surely there is plenty of
time? Is it because the thoughts have come to you and you dared not
daily with them? Or is it because you are like every one else--in such
a terrible hurry to become rich and famous?"
He shook his head.
"It is not that," he said. "I have no thought of either. Alas!" he
added, looking into her eyes, "I lack the great incentive!"
"Then why is it?" she whispered.
"You must not ask our young friend too many questions," the professor
interrupted, a trifle impatiently. "Tell me, Mr. Burton, has there
been any change--er--in your condition?"
Burton shivered for a moment.
"None at present," he admitted. "It is scarcely due as yet."
Mr. Cowper drew his chair a little nearer. His face betokened the
liveliest interest. Edith stood in the window for a moment and then
sank into a chair in the background.
"With reference to your last remark," the professor went on, "it has
yet, I think, to be proved that these beans are of equal potency.


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