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

"The Great Prince Shan"


She had passed Immelan in the entrance, and there was something
ominously disturbing in his cool, triumphant smile. She pictured to
herself the agreement signed, some nameless terror already launched. She
remembered that Nigel had complained of Naida's inaccessibility during
the last few days. She herself had been surprised at Prince Shan's
apparent withdrawal, temporary though it might be, from the peculiar but
impressive position which he had taken up with regard to her.
She stood back against the wall, in a dark corner, striving to collect
her thoughts, thankful for the brief respite from conversation. A man in
the costume of a monk, who had followed her across the room, touched her
on the shoulder. He spoke in a quiet, unfamiliar voice with a foreign
accent,
"You are Lady Maggie Trent?"
"Yes!"
"Will you please go to box number fourteen, on the second tier? There is
some one there who waits for you."
"Who is it?" she asked.
The monk had glided away. Maggie, after a few minutes' reflection,
slipped out into the corridor, mounted one flight of stairs, and passed
along the semicircular balcony. The door of box number fourteen was
ajar. She pushed it gently open and glanced in. Seated so as to be out
of sight of the whole house was La Belle Nita. For a moment the two
looked at each other. Then the Chinese girl sprang to her feet, made a
quaint little bow, and, gliding around, closed the door behind her
visitor.


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