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

"The Great Secret"

"
"It was you, then," I remarked, "who had him sent down to my place?"
She nodded.
"It was not easy," she said. "If they had known that you were going to
have a doctor to visit him, it would have been impossible."
"He has been poisoned, I suppose?" I said calmly.
She shrugged her shoulders.
"He will die, and die very soon," she answered. "That is certain. But I
think you will find no doctor here who will have anything to say about
poison."
She moved a little nearer to me. The overhanging bunch of scarlet
geraniums from her waistband brushed against my coat; the beady black
eyes of the dog upon her shoulder were fixed steadily upon me.
"Has he said anything?" she murmured.
"Not yet," I answered.
"He will do so," she declared confidently, "and before long. That is why
I am here. You must come to me the moment--the very moment you know! You
understand that?"
"Yes!" I answered, a little discontentedly, "I understand!"
Her expression suddenly changed. A frown darkened her face.
"Perhaps," she said, "you have already repented.


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