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Rohmer, Sax, 1883-1959

"Bat Wing"

"
I sighed with relief, for Harley at these times imposed a severe strain
even upon my easy-going disposition.
"Let us go down to the billiard room," he continued. "I will play you a
hundred up. I have arrived at a point where my ideas persistently work
in circles. The best cure is golf; failing golf, billiards."
The billiard room was immediately beneath us, adjoining the last
apartment in the east wing, and there we made our way. Harley played
keenly, deliberately, concentrating upon the game. I was less
successful, for I found myself alternately glancing toward the door and
the open window, in the hope that Val Beverley would join us. I was
disappointed, however. We saw no more of the ladies until tea-time, and
if a spirit of constraint had prevailed throughout luncheon, a
veritable demon of unrest presided upon the terrace during tea.
Madame de Staemer made apologies on behalf of the Colonel. He was
prolonging his siesta, but he hoped to join us at dinner.
"Is the Colonel's heart affected?" Harley asked.
Madame de Staemer shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, blankly.
"It is mysterious, the state of his health," she replied.


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