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down on my knees to you? OTTOLINE. [_In a subdued tone._] If you do, I shall have to kneel to _you_, Phil. PHILIP. [_Slowly folding her in his arms._] Ah! Ah! Ah! [_In her ear._] What a night I've spent! OTTOLINE. [_Almost inaudibly._] And I! [_He seats her upon the settee on the right and sits beside her, linking his hand in hers._ PHILIP. How merciful this is of you! I've just sent you a letter by Robbie Roope, begging you to see me; you've missed him. [_Smiling._] It isn't as eloquent as some I started writing at five o'clock this morning. Would you like to hear it? [_She nods. He recites his note tenderly._] "Forgive me. I forgive you. When may I come to you?" That's all. OTTOLINE. _Isn't_ that eloquent, Phil? PHILIP. [_Smiling again._] It's concise--and as long as you forgive me--[_eyeing her with a shadow of fear_] you're _sure_ you've forgiven me? OTTOLINE. Sure. PHILIP. [_Persistently._] Without reserve? OTTOLINE. Should I be here--[_indicating their proximity_] and _here_--if I hadn't? PHILIP. [_Pressing her hand to his lips ardently, and then freeing her shoulders from her coat._] Take this off---- OTTOLINE. [_Gently resisting._] Poor Sir Timothy----! PHILIP. [_In high spirits._] Oh, a little exercise won't do Sir Timothy any harm! [_Helping her to slip her arms out of her coat._] Dash it, you might have let _me_ escort you to Bond Street! OTTOLINE. No, no; your work---- PHILIP. [_His brow clouding._] W-w-work----? OTTOLINE. You mustn't lose your morning's work. [_There is a short pause, and then he rises and moves a few steps away from her. With an impassive countenance, she fingers the buttons of her gloves._ PHILIP. [_Stroking the pattern of the carpet with his foot._] Otto---- OTTOLINE. [_Looking up._] Yes, Phil? PH
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