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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"Flames"

He talked of nothing else. He's an extraordinary fellow,
extraordinary."
"Why? What is he like?"
"In appearance? Oh, the sort of chap little pink women call Satanic;
white complexion showing blue where he shaves, big dark eyes rather
sunken, black hair, tall, very thin and quiet. Very well dressed. He
is that uncanny kind of a man who has a silent manner and a noisy
expression. You know what I mean?"
"Yes, perfectly."
"I think he's very morbid. He never reads the evening papers."
"That proves it absolutely. Does he smoke?"
"Always. I found him in the smoking-room. He showed the most persistent
interest in our proceedings, Val. I couldn't get him to talk of anything
else, so at last I told him exactly what had happened."
"Did you tell him that we began to sit last night in a different room?"
"Yes. That was curious. Directly I said it he began making minute
inquiries as to what the room was like, how the furniture was placed,
even what pictures hung on the walls."
"The pictures!"
"Yes. I described them."
"All of them?"
"No, one or two; that favorite of yours, 'The Merciful Knight,' the
Turner, those girls of Solomon's with the man playing to them, and--yes,
I think those were all.


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