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

"The Zeppelin's Passenger"

Philippa met several acquaintances, but Lessingham
walked with his head erect, looking neither to the right nor to the
left.
"Aren't you sometimes afraid of being recognised?" she asked him.
"There must be a great many men about of your time at Magdalen, for
instance?"
"Nine years makes a lot of difference," he reminded her, "and besides,
I have a theory that it is only when the eyes meet that recognition
really takes place. So long as I do not look into any one's face,
I feel quite safe."
"You are sure that you would not like to go to a smaller place than
the Carlton?"
"It makes no difference," he assured her. "My credentials have been
wonderfully established for me."
"I'm so glad," she confessed. "I know it's most unfashionable, but
I do like these big places. If ever I had my way, I should like to
live in London and have a cottage in the country, instead of living
in the country and being just an hotel dweller in London."
"I wonder if New York would not do?" he ventured.
"I expect I should like New York," she murmured.
"I think," he said, "in fact, I am almost sure that when I leave
here I shall go to the United States."
She looked at him and turned suddenly away. They arrived just then
at their destination, and the moment passed. Lessingham left his
companion in the lounge while he went back into the restaurant to
secure his table and order lunch.


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