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

"The Zeppelin's Passenger"

"
"I am your friend, remember," Helen replied, "and upon my word, I
couldn't trust and believe even in Dick, if he behaved as you have
done for the last twelve months."
Sir Henry made a grimace.
"Well, that settles it, I suppose, then," he observed. "I'll have
one more try and see what I can do with Philippa. Perhaps a hint
of what's going on may satisfy her."
He climbed the stairs, meeting Nora on her way down, and knocked at
his wife's door. There was no reply. He tried the handle and found
the door locked.
"Are you there, Philippa?" he asked.
"Yes!" she replied coldly.
"I am going to London this morning. Can I have a few words with you
first?"
"No!"
Sir Henry was a little taken aback.
"Don't be silly, Philippa," he persisted. "I may be away for four
or five days."
There was no answer. Sir Henry suddenly remembered another entrance
from a newly added bathroom. He availed himself of it and found
Philippa seated in an easy-chair, calmly progressing with her
breakfast. She raised her eyebrows at his entrance.
"These are my apartments," she reminded him.
"Don't be a little fool," he exclaimed impatiently.
Philippa deliberately buttered herself a piece of toast, picked up
her book, and became at once immersed in it.
"You don't wish to talk to me, then?" he demanded.
"I do not," she agreed.


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