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

"The Tempting of Tavernake"

The science of
which I am to some extent the pioneer--not a drop more, my young
friend. Say, I'm in dead earnest this time! No more, indeed."
The young man in knickerbockers who had just come in banged the
head of his cane upon the counter.
"You'll never refuse me, Professor," he asserted, confidently.
"I'm an old supporter, I am. I've seen you in Blackburn and
Manchester, and twice here. Just as wonderful as ever! And that
young lady of yours, Professor, begging your pardon if she is
your daughter, as no doubt she is, why, she's a nut and no
mistake."
The professor sighed. He was in his element but he was getting
uneasy at the flight of time.
"My young friend," he said, "your face is not familiar to me but
I cannot refuse your kindly offer. It must be the last, however,
absolutely the last."
Then Tavernake, directed here from the music-hall, pushed open
the swing door and entered. The professor set down his glass
untasted. Tavernake came slowly across the room.
"You haven't forgotten me, then, Professor?" he remarked, holding
out his hand.
The professor welcomed him a little limply; something of the
bombast had gone out of his manner. Tavernake's arrival had
reminded him of things which he had only too easily forgotten.
"This is very surprising," he faltered, "very surprising indeed.
Do you live in these parts?"
"Not far away," Tavernake answered. "I saw your announcement in
the papers."
The professor nodded.


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