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

"The Malefactor"

And all the time
you had a prize."
The Marchioness looked at Lady Ruth, and Lady Ruth looked at the
Marchioness. The young guardsman was a little sorry that he had come,
but Lady Ruth never turned a hair.
"You must really have your eyes seen to, dear," the Marchioness
remarked in a tone of tender concern. "When you can't see such an old
friend as Mr. Wingrave from a few yards away, they must be very bad
indeed. How are you, Captain Kendrick? Come and tell me about the polo
this afternoon. Sorry I can't offer you all chairs. This is an absurd
box--it was only meant for two!"
"Come into ours," Lady Ruth said; "we have chairs for six, I think."
The Marchioness shook her head.
"I wish I had a millionaire in the family," she murmured. "All the
same, I hate large parties. I am old-fashioned enough to think that
two is a delightful number."
Lady Ruth laid her hand upon Wingrave's arm.
"A decided hint, Mr. Wingrave," she declared. "Come and let me
introduce you to my sister. Our box is only a few yards off."

"I AM MISANTHROPOS, AND HATE MANKIND"
Wingrave had just come in from an early gallop. His pale cheeks were
slightly flushed, and his eyes were bright. He had been riding hard to
escape from disconcerting thoughts. He looked in at the study, and
found Aynesworth with a mass of correspondence before him.
"Anything important?" he asked.
"Not yet," Aynesworth answered.


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