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

"Nobody's Man"


"A moment ago, Robert was complaining because I was sending my soup
away. Now I shall show him what Devon air can do."
The champagne was excellent, and the dinner over which Gertrude had
taken so much care was after all thoroughly appreciated. Tallente,
suddenly and unexpectedly light-hearted, felt a keen desire to entertain
his welcome guest, and remembered his former successes as a raconteur.
They pushed politics and all personal matters far away. He dug up
reminiscences of his class in foreign capitals, when he had first
entered the Diplomatic Service, betrayed his intimate knowledge of the
Florence which they both loved, of Paris, where she had studied and
which he had seen under so many aspects,--Paris, the home of beauty and
fashion before the war; torn with anguish and horror during its earlier
stages; grim, steadfast and sombre in the clays of Verdun; wildly, madly
exultant when wreathed and decorated with victory. There were so many
things to talk about for two people of agile brains come together late
in life. They had moved into the study and Lady Jane was sealed in his
favourite easy-chair, sipping her coffee and some wonderful green
chartreuse, before a single personal note had crept into the flow of
their conversation.


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