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

"The Zeppelin's Passenger"

"Is that what you call it?"
"It has been little else," he replied indifferently. "There is
nothing to be learnt here of the slightest military significance."
"We told you that when you arrived," Philippa reminded him.
"I was perhaps foolish not to believe you," he acknowledged.
"So your very exciting journey through the clouds has ended in
failure, after all!" she went on, a moment or two later.
"Failure? No, I should not call it failure."
"You have really made some discoveries, then?" she enquired dubiously.
"I have made the greatest discovery in the world."
Her eyebrows were gently raised, the corners of her mouth quivered,
her eyes fell.
"Dear me! In this quiet spot?" she sighed.
"Yes!"
"Is it Helen or me?"
"Philippa!" he protested.
Her eyebrows were more raised than ever. Her mouth had lost its
alluring curve.
"Really, Mr. Lessingham!" she exclaimed. "Have I ever given you
the right to call me by my Christian name?"
"In my country," he answered, "we do not wait to ask. We take."
"Rank Prussianism," she murmured. "I really think you had better
go back there. You are adopting their methods."
"I may have to at any moment," he admitted, "or to some more distant
country still. I want something to take back with me."
"You want a keepsake, of course," Philippa declared, looking around
the room.


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