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

"The Tempting of Tavernake"

When at last
they were out of sight and he turned back for his coat and hat,
his feet were suddenly leaden. The band was playing the last
selection--it was the air which Beatrice had sung only that night
at the east-end music-hall. With a sudden overpowering impulse
he turned and strode down the Strand in the direction where they
had vanished. It was too late. There was no sign of them.


CHAPTER VI
UNDERSTANDING COMES TOO LATE

Tavernake's first impression of Elizabeth was that he had never,
even in his wildest thoughts, done her justice. He had never
imagined her so wonderfully, so alluringly beautiful. She had
received him, after a very long delay, in her sitting-room at
Claridge's Hotel--a large apartment furnished more like a
drawing-room. She was standing, when he entered, almost in the
center of the room, dressed in a long lace cloak and a hat with a
drooping black feather. She looked at him, as the door opened,
as though for a moment half puzzled. Then she laughed softly and
held out her hands.
"Why, of course I remember you!" she exclaimed. "And to think
that when I had your card I couldn't imagine where I had heard
the name before! You are my dear estate agent's clerk, who
wouldn't take my money, and who was so wretchedly rude to me
twelve months ago."
Tavernake was quite cool. He found himself wondering whether
this was a pose, or whether she had indeed forgotten. He decided
that it was a pose.


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