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Phillips, David Graham, 1867-1911

"The Deluge"

"
"Mr. Monson says he wishes to see you particular, sir," said he.
"Well--I'll see him," said I. I despised him too much to dislike him, and I
thought he might possibly be in want. But that notion vanished the instant
I set eyes upon him. He was obviously at the very top of the wave. "Hello,
Monson," was my greeting, in it no reminder of his treachery.
"Howdy, Blacklock," said he. "I've come on a little errand for Mrs.
Langdon." Then, with that nasty grin of his: "You know, I'm looking after
things for her since the bust-up."
"No, I didn't--know," said I curtly, suppressing my instant curiosity.
"What does Mrs. Langdon want?"
"To see you--for just a few minutes--whenever it is convenient."
"If Mrs. Langdon has business with me, I'll see her at my office," said I.
She was one of the fashionables that had got herself into my black books by
her treatment of Anita since the break with the Ellerslys.
"She wishes to come to you here--this afternoon, if you are to be at home.
She asked me to say that her business is important--and very private."
I hesitated, but I could think of no good excuse for refusing. "I'll be
here an hour," said I. "Good day."
He gave me no time to change my mind.


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