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

"The Zeppelin's Passenger"

"
He passed his arm through the bridle of his horse. "I will walk
with you, if I may," he proposed. She made no reply, and they set
their faces homewards.
"I hear Lessingham has left the place," he remarked, a little
abruptly.
"Oh, I expect he'll come back," Philippa replied.
"How long is it, Lady Cranston, since you took to consorting with
German spies?" he asked.
"Don't be foolish--or impertinent," she enjoined. "You are making
a ridiculous mistake about Mr. Lessingham."
He laughed unpleasantly.
"No need for us to fence," he said. "You and I know who he is.
What I do want to know, what I have been wondering all the way from
the point there--four miles of hard galloping and one question--
why are you his friend? What is he to you?"
"Really, Captain Griffiths," she protested, looking up at him, "of
what possible interest can that be to you?"
"Well, it is, anyhow," he answered gruffly. "Anything that concerns
you is of interest to me."
Philippa realised at that moment, perhaps for the first time, what
it all meant. She realised the significance of those apparently
purposeless afternoon calls, when through sheer boredom she had had
to send for Helen to help her out; the significance of those long
silences, the melancholy eyes which seemed to follow her movements.
She felt an unaccountable desire to laugh, and then, at the first
twitchings of her lips, she restrained herself.


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