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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"The Prophet of Berkeley Square"

Merillia very prostrate. It seemed that the telegraph boys
had very soon worn through the cotton-wool with which the knocker had
been shrouded, and that the incessant noise of their efforts to
attract attention at the door had quite unnerved the gallant old lady.
Nevertheless, her own condition was the last thing she thought of.
"I don't mind for myself, Hennessey," she said. "But it is very
sad after all these years of respect and even, I think, a certain
popularity, to be considered a nuisance by one's square. We are
hopelessly embroiled with the Duchess of Camberwell, and the Lord
Chancellor has sent over five times to explain the different laws and
regulations that we are breaking. I don't see how you can go to his
Reception to-night, really."
"I am not going, grannie," said the Prophet, overwhelmed with
contrition. "I cannot go in any case."
"Why not?"
"I--I have some work to do at home."
He avoided the glance of her bright eyes, and continued.
"Grannie, I am deeply grieved at all you have gone through to-day.
Believe me it has not been my fault--at least not entirely. I may have
been injudicious, but I never--never--"
He paused, quite overcome with emotion.


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