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

"Nobody's Man"

The avenue into which he presently turned was
starred on either side with a riot of primroses, running wild into the
brambles, with here and there a belt of bluebells. The atmosphere
beneath the closely growing trees--limes, with great waxy buds--became
enervating with spring odours and a momentary breathlessness came to
Tallente, fresh from his crowded days and nights of battle. The
sun-warmed wave of perfume from the trim beds of hyacinths in the
suddenly disclosed garden was almost overpowering and he passed like a
man in a dream through their sweetness to the front door. The butler
who admitted him conducted him at once to Jane's sanctum. Without any
warning he was ushered in.
"Mr. Tallente, your ladyship."
He had a strange impression of her as she rose from a very sea of
newspapers. She was thinner--he was sure of that--dressed in indoor
clothes although it was the middle of the morning, a suggestion of the
invalid about her easy-chair and her tired eyes. It seemed to him that
for a moment they were lit with a gleam of fear which passed almost
instantaneously.


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