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Blackwood, Algernon, 1869-1951

"A Prisoner in Fairyland"


By the time the luggage had been taken up, he had missed the last tram
home, and his sleep that night must in any case be short. Yet he took
no note of that. One must live largely. A small sacrifice for such a
master was nothing at all. He lingered, glancing now and again at the
heap of correspondence that would occupy them next morning, and
sorting once more the little pile that would need immediate personal
attention. He was picking a bit of disfiguring fluff from his coat
sleeve when the door opened and Henry Rogers came upon him.
'Ah! I waited a moment, Mr. Rogers. I thought you might have something
to say before I went, perhaps.'
'I hoped you would, Minks. I have a great deal to say. It can wait
till to-morrow, really--only I wanted--but, there now, I forgot; you
have to get down to Sydenham, haven't you? And it's late already---'
'That's nothing, Mr. Rogers. I can easily sleep in town. I came
prepared, indeed, to do so---' as though he, too, had his Club and
would take a bedroom in it.
'Clever and thoughtful of you, Minks!'
'Only you must be tired after your journey,' suggested the secretary.
'Tired!' exclaimed the other vigorously, 'not a bit! I'm as fresh as a
st--a daisy, I mean. Come, draw your chair up; we'll have a smoke and
a little chat. I'm delighted to see you again.


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