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Phillips, David Graham, 1867-1911

"The Deluge"

" That meant that he wished me to increase my already far too heavy
and dangerous line of shorts.
Just then a voice--a woman's voice--came from the salon. "May I come in? Do
I interrupt?" it said, and its tone struck me as having in it something of
plaintive appeal.
"Excuse me a moment, Blacklock," said he, rising with what was for him
haste.
But he was too late. The woman entered, searching the room with a piercing,
suspicious gaze. At once I saw, behind that look, a jealousy that pounced
on every object that came into its view, and studied it with a hope that
feared and a fear that hoped. When her eyes had toured the room, they
paused upon him, seemed to be saying: "You've baffled me again, but I'm not
discouraged. I shall catch you yet."
"Well, my dear?" said Langdon, whom she seemed faintly to amuse. "It's only
Mr. Blacklock. Mr. Blacklock, my wife."
I bowed; she looked coldly at me, and her slight nod was more than a hint
that she wished to be left alone with her husband.
I said to him: "Well, I'll be off. Thank you for--"
"One moment," he interrupted. Then to his wife: "Anything special?"
She flushed. "No--nothing special. I just came to see you. But if I am
disturbing you--as usual--"
"Not at all," said he.


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