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

"An Amiable Charlatan"

"
"What about them?"
"I want their address, of course," Reggie continued. "The mater wants to
call this afternoon and I'm all for seeing Miss Bundercombe again. Ripping
girl, isn't she?"
"Then prepare yourself for a disappointment, my friend," I advised,
glancing at the clock. "They left for Paris by the nine o'clock train this
morning."
Reggie stared at me blankly.
"Gone already?"
I nodded and invented a little difficulty with my coffee pot.
"Theirs was only a flying visit," I explained. "I was lucky to get hold of
them for my dinner."
"I'm hanged if I understand this!" Reggie remarked, looking at me
suspiciously. "Why, I spent the best part of three weeks with them in that
Godforsaken hole out West, and they were as keen as mustard on my taking
them round London. How long have they been here?"
"Not long," I answered. "Sure you won't have some coffee?"
Reggie ignored the invitation.
"They've got my address and there are the directories," he continued. "The
funny part of it is, too, that I heard from Mrs. Bundercombe a week or so
ago, and she never said a word about any of them coming over."
"They seem to have made their minds up all of a sudden," I explained.
"They spoke of it as quite a flying trip.


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