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

"The Devil's Paw"

"Mr.
Julian Orden is by way of being a particular friend, eh?"
"As a matter of fact," Catherine told him, "we are engaged to be
married. It isn't a serious engagement. It was entered into by
him in a most chivalrous manner, to save me from the consequences
of a very clumsy attempt on my part to get back that packet. But
there it is. Every one down at his home believes at the present
moment that we are engaged and that I have come up to London to
see our Ambassador."
"If you are engaged," Fenn sneered, "why hasn't he told you more
of his secrets?"
"Secrets!" she repeated, a little scornfully. "I shouldn't think
he has any. I should imagine his daily life could be investigated
without the least fear."
"You'd imagine wrong, then."
"But how interesting! You excite my curiosity. And must you
continue to hold my wrist?"
"Let me pull down the top of this desk, then."
"No!"
"Why not?"
"I intend to examine those papers."
With a quick movement he gained a momentary advantage and shut the
desk down. The key, however, disturbed by the jerk, fell on to
the carpet, and Catherine possessed herself of it. She sprang
lightly back from him and pressed the bell.
"D-n you, what are you going to do now?" he demanded.
"You will see," she replied. "Don't come any nearer, or you may
find that I can be unpleasant."
He shrugged his shoulders and waited. She turned towards the
servant who presently appeared.
"Robert," she said, "will you telephone for me?"
"Certainly, madam," the man answered.


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