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

"The Tempting of Tavernake"


Don't you think you would be more contented, happier, if you were
to try to arrange for a few--a few demonstrations or lectures
over here, as you at first intended? I know that you must find
having nothing to do such a strain upon you," she added.
It was perhaps by accident that her eyes were fixed upon the
glass which the professor was carrying to his lips. He set it
down at once.
"My child," he said, in a low tone, " I understand you."
"No, no," she insisted, "I didn't mean that, but you are always
better when you are working. A man like you," she went on, a
little wistfully, "should not waste his talents."
He sighed.
"You are perhaps right, my child," he admitted. "I will go and
see my agents to-morrow. Up till now," he went on, "I have
refused all offers. I have felt that Elizabeth, the care of
Elizabeth in her peculiar position, demanded my whole attention.
Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I have over-estimated the
necessity of being constantly at her right hand. She is a very
clever woman Elizabeth," he concluded, "very clever indeed."
"Where is she now, father?" Beatrice asked.
"She motored into the country early this morning with some
friends," the professor said. "They went to a party last night
with Walter Crease, London correspondent to the New York
Gazette," he explained, turning a little away from Tavernake.
"They were all home very late, I understand, and Elizabeth
complained of a headache this morning.


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