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

"Nobody's Man"


"One moment out of life," she faltered, "one moment!"
Another great wave shook the ground beneath them, but she had drawn
away. She struggled for breath. Then once more her hand was thrust
through his arm. He knew so well that his hour was over and he
submitted.
"Back, please," she whispered, "back through the plantation--quietly."
An almost supernatural instinct divined and acceded to her desire for
silence. So they walked slowly back towards the long, low house whose
faint lights flickered through the trees. She leaned a little upon him,
the hand which she had passed through his arm was clasped in his. Only
the wind spoke. When at last they were en the terraces she drew a long
breath.
"Dear friend," she said softly, "see how I trust you. I leave in your
keeping the most precious few minutes of my life."
"This is to be the end, then?" he faltered.
"It is not we who have decided that," she answered. "It is just what
must be. You go to a very difficult life, a very splendid one. I have
my smaller task. Don't unfit me for it. We will each do our best.


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