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Arnim, Elizabeth von, 1866-1941

"The Princess Priscilla's Fortnight"

A miscreant, I do believe, capable of anything--Annalise--"
"Fritzi, I took a five-pound note out of that last night, if that's
what you miss."
"You, ma'am?"
"To pay the girl who worked here her wages. You weren't here. I
couldn't find anything smaller."
"_Gott sei Dank! Gott sei Dank_!" cried Fritzing, going back to German
in his joy. "Oh ma'am, if you had told me earlier you would have
spared me great anguish. Have you the change?"
"Didn't she bring it?"
"Bring it, ma'am?"
"I gave it to her last night to change. She was to bring it round this
morning. Didn't she?"
Fritzing stared aghast. Then he disappeared into the kitchen. In a
moment he was back again. "She has not been here," he said, in a voice
packed once more with torment.
"Perhaps she has forgotten."
"Ma'am, how came you--"
"Now you're going to scold me."
"No, no--but how is it possible that you should have trusted--"
"Fritzi, you _are_ going to scold me, and I'm so tired. What else has
been taken? You said all your money--"
He snatched up his hat.


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