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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"Flames"

They put their faith in the chain of cause
and effect. What we have done,--you and I, Valentine,--must have an
effect of some sort."
"It will have a very bad effect upon you, I can see," said Valentine,
smiling, "unless you pull yourself together. Come, this is nonsense.
We have sat once too often, and the consequence followed, and is over:
I went into a trance. I have fortunately come out of it, so the penalty
which you so firmly believe in has been paid. The score is cleared,
Julian."
"I suppose so."
"I have no doubt of it. Let us forget the whole matter, since to remember
it seems likely to affect those devils that make the hell of the physical
man--the nerves. Let us forget it. Where are you dining to-night?"
"Nowhere in particular. I have not thought about it," Julian said, rather
listlessly.
"Dine with me then."
"Yes, Valentine."
Julian hesitated, then added:
"But not in Victoria Street, if you don't mind."
"At the Savoy then; or shall we say the Berkeley?"
"Very well,--the Berkeley."
"At eight o'clock. Good-bye till then. I must ask you to give the shelter
of your roof to Rip till he returns to a more reasonable frame of mind
about me."
When Valentine had gone Julian put on his coat, and walked down to the
club, ostensibly to look at the evening papers, really because he had
a desire to see Marr.


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