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Rohmer, Sax, 1883-1959

"Fire-Tongue"

Harley by only a few minutes," said Rama
Dass.
"What!" exclaimed Phil, her eyes opening very widely.
"Oh, there is no occasion for alarm," explained the secretary in
his urbane manner. "He has ventured as far as Lower Claybury
station. The visit was unavoidable. He particularly requested
that we should commence luncheon, but hoped to be back before we
should have finished."
Phil Abingdon glanced rapidly from the face of the speaker to
that of Ormuz Khan. But her scrutiny of those unreadable
countenances availed her nothing. She was conscious of a great
and growing uneasiness; and Mrs. McMurdoch, misunderstanding the
expression upon her face, squeezed her arm playfully.
"Cheer up, dear," she whispered; "he will be here soon!"
Phil knew that her face had flushed deeply. Partly she was glad
of her emotions, and partly ashamed. This sweet embarrassment in
which there was a sort of pain was a new experience, but one
wholly delightful. She laughed, and accepting the arm of Ormuz
Khan, walked into a very English-looking library, followed by
Rama Dass and Mrs. McMurdoch. The house, she thought, was very
silent, and she found herself wondering why no servants had
appeared.
Rama Dass had taken charge of the ladies' cloaks in the hall, and
in spite of the typical English environment in which she found
herself, Phil sat very near to Mrs. McMurdoch on a settee,
scarcely listening to the conversation, and taking no part in it.


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