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

"A Millionaire of Yesterday"

She was not afraid any more.
"I wouldn't drink if I were you," she said, "it can't be good for
you, I'm sure!"
"Good," he answered slowly, "it's poison - rank poison."
"If I were you," she said, "I would put all this stuff away and go
for a nice walk. It would do you much more good."
He shook his head.
"I daren't," he whispered. "They're looking for me now. I must
hide - hide all the time!"
"Who are looking for you?" she asked.
"Don't you know? Mr. Walsh and his wife! They have come over
after me!"
"Why?"
"Didn't you know," he muttered," that I am a thief?"
She shook her head.
"No, I certainly didn't. I'm very sorry!"
He nodded his head vigorously a great many times.
"Won't you tell me about it?" she asked. "Was it anything very bad?"
"I don't know," he said. "It's so hard to remember! It is
something like this! I seem to have lived for such a long time, and
when I look back I can remember things that happened a very long
time ago, but then there seems a gap, and everything is all misty,
and it makes my head ache dreadfully to try and remember," he moaned.
"Then don't try," she said kindly. "I'll read to you for a little
time if you like, and you shall sit quite quiet."
He seemed not to have heard her.


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