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

"The Double Life Of Mr. Alfred Burton"

I have a feeling, you know, that after to-day things
will be different."
"Why should they be?" she asked. "In any case, your time cannot come
yet."
Once more he looked downward into the valley. Like a little speck along
the road a motor-car was crawling along.
"It is Mr. Bomford," he said. "He is coming to look for you."
She rose to her feet. Together they stood, for a moment, hand in hand,
looking down upon the flaming landscape. The fields at their feet were
brilliant with color; in the far distance the haze of the sea. Their
fingers were locked.
"Mr. Bomford," he sighed, "is coming up the hill."
"Then I think," she said quietly, "that we had better go down!"

CHAPTER XVIII
THE END OF A DREAM
Dinner that evening was a curious meal, partly constrained, partly
enlivened by strange little bursts of attempted geniality on the part of
the professor. Mr. Bomford told long and pointless stories with much
effort and the air of a man who would have made himself agreeable if he
could. Edith leaned back in her chair, eating very little, her eyes
large, her cheeks pale. She made her escape as soon as possible and
Burton watched her with longing eyes as he passed out into the cool
darkness.


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