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

"A Millionaire of Yesterday"

Ernestine swung open the entrance door to
the "Hour", and passed down the rows of desks until she reached the
door at the further end marked "Sub-Editor." She knocked and was
admitted at once.
A thin, dark young man, wearing a pince-nez and smoking a cigarette,
looked up from his writing as she entered. He waved her to a seat,
but his pen never stopped for a second.
"Back, Miss Wendermott! Very good! What did you get?"
"Interview and sketch of the house," she responded briskly.
"Interview by Jove! That's good! Was he very difficult?"
"Ridiculously easy! Told me everything I asked and a lot more. If
I could have got it all down in his own language it would have been
positively thrilling."
The sub-editor scribbled in silence for a moment or two. He had
reached an important point in his own work. His pen went slower,
hesitated for a moment, and then dashed on with renewed vigour.
"Read the first few sentences of what you've got," he remarked.
Ernestine obeyed. To all appearance the man was engrossed in his
own work, but when she paused he nodded his head appreciatively.
"It'll do!" he said. "Don't try to polish it. Give it down, and
see that the proofs are submitted to me. Where's the sketch?"
She held it out to him.


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