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

"The Double Life Of Mr. Alfred Burton"

I
may go out with you some other evening, and I may not. I don't think I
shall. To-night just happens to suit me."
With a last admiring glance at herself in the mirror, she came into the
room. Burton patted her on the arm and waved the wine list away.
"The best is good enough," he declared,--"the best in the house. Just
what you like yourself. Price don't matter just now."
He counted a roll of notes which he drew from his trousers pocket. The
two girls looked at him in amazement. He threw one upon the table.
"Backed a horse?" Maud asked. "Legacy?" Milly inquired. Burton, with
some difficulty, relit the stump of his cigar.
"Bit of an advance I've just received from a company I'm connected
with," he explained. "Would insist on my being a director. I'm trying
to get Waddington here into it," he added, condescendingly. "Jolly good
thing for him if I succeed, I can tell you."
Miss Maud moved away in a chastened manner. She took the opportunity to
slip upstairs and powder her face and put on clean white cuffs.
Presently she returned, carrying the wine on a silver tray, with the
best glasses that could be procured.
"Here's luck!" Burton exclaimed, jauntily. "Can't drink much myself.


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