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Freeman, R. Austin (Richard Austin), 1862-1943

"The Vanishing Man"

" And with this I bustled away, leaving
her literally dancing with curiosity.


CHAPTER IX
THE SPHINX OF LINCOLN'S INN

At the age of twenty-six one cannot claim to have attained to the
position of a person of experience. Nevertheless, the knowledge of human
nature accumulated in that brief period sufficed to make me feel pretty
confident that, at some time during the evening, I should receive a
visit from Miss Oman. And circumstances justified my confidence; for the
clock yet stood at two minutes to seven when a premonitory tap at the
surgery door heralded her arrival.
"I happened to be passing," she explained, and I forbore to smile at the
coincidence, "so I thought I might as well drop in and hear what you
wanted to ask me about."
She seated herself in the patients' chair and, laying a bundle of
newspapers on the table, glared at me expectantly.
"Thank you, Miss Oman," I said. "It is very good of you to look in on
me. I am ashamed to give you all this trouble about such a trifling
matter."
She rapped her knuckles impatiently on the table.


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