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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"The Profiteers"

Thanks!" she went on. "What ripping sandwiches! And quite a good
play, wasn't it?"
"I am glad you enjoyed it."
"It was a swindle Josephine not turning up," Sarah continued, as she
stretched herself out in Wingate's easy-chair. "Domestic ructions again,
I suppose. How I do hate that husband of hers!"
"It was disappointing," he admitted.
There was a brief pause, during which Sarah finished her sandwiches and
lit a cigarette.
"Wilshaw seems to be having a little trouble with the outside porter,"
her host remarked presently.
"It must cost him at least half a sovereign every time I leave the cab,"
Sarah sighed.
"How much do you make a week out of your driving, if it isn't too
personal a question?" he enquired.
"It depends upon how much Jimmy's got."
"Is he your only client, then?"
"He very seldom gives me a chance of another. Once or twice I've refused
to be engaged by the day, but he sends his man around to the garage and I
find him sitting in the cab when I arrive."
Wingate laughed softly. She looked up at him with twinkling eyes.
"I believe you're making fun of my profession," she complained.
"Not at all, but I was wondering whether it wouldn't be cheaper for you
to marry Jimmy, as you call him."
"We have spoken about it once or twice," she admitted. "The worst of it
is, I don't think the cab would support two.


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