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

"The Devil's Paw"


"These are the days," he said, "when, if one is to succeed in my
profession, one must know everything."
She did not speak for a moment. His question had been rather a
shock to her. In a moment or two, however, she found herself
wondering how to use it for her own advantage.
"It is true," she admitted.
He looked intently at the point of his patent shoe.
"Is this not a case, Countess," he ventured, "in which you and I
might perhaps come a little closer together?"
"If you have anything to suggest, I am ready to listen," she said.
"I wonder," he went on, "if I am right in some of my ideas? I
shall test them. You have taken up your abode in England. That
was natural, for domestic reasons. You have shown a great
interest in a certain section of the British public. It is my
theory that your interest in England is for that section only;
that as a country, you are no more an admirer of her
characteristics than I am."
"You are perfectly right," she answered coolly.
"Your interest," he proceeded, "is in the men and women toilers of
the world, the people who carry on their shoulders the whole
burden of life, and whose position you are continually desiring to
ameliorate. I take it that your sympathy is international?"
"It is," she assented
"People of this order in--say--Germany, excite your sympathy in
the same degree?"
"Absolutely!"
"Therefore," he propounded, "you are working for the betterment of
the least considered class, whether it be German, Austrian,
British, or French?"
"That also is true," she agreed.


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