E. Phillips (Edward Phillips) Oppenheim

E. Phillips (Edward Phillips) Oppenheim
Edward Phillips Oppenheim was an English novelist, widely recognized for his prolific output of popular thrillers and romance novels. He authored over 150 books, with his works often featuring international intrigue and espionage, gaining significant popularity during the early 20th century. Oppenheim's most famous novel, "The Great Impersonation" (1920), remains a classic example of his skill in crafting suspenseful and engaging plots.

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CHAPTER I “Down with the traitors! Down with the Russian spies! Down with Metzger!” Above the roaring of the north wind rose the clamour of voices, the cries of hate and disgust, the deep groaning sobs of fierce and militant anger. The man and the woman exchanged quick glances. “They are coming nearer,” he said. She drew aside the heavy curtain, and stood there, looking out into the night.... more...

CHAPTER I THE SERMON THAT WAS NEVER PREACHED A little party of men and women on bicycles were pushing their machines up the steep ascent which formed the one street of Feldwick village. It was a Sunday morning, and the place was curiously empty. Their little scraps of gay conversation and laughter—they were men and women of the smart world—seemed to strike almost a pagan note in a deep Sabbatical... more...

CHAPTER I SYMPATHY AND SELFISHNESS The girl who was dying lay in an invalid chair piled up with cushions in a sheltered corner of the lawn. The woman who had come to visit her had deliberately turned away her head with a murmured word about the sunshine and the field of buttercups. Behind them was the little sanitarium, a gray stone villa built in the style of a château, overgrown with creepers, and... more...

CHAPTER I The trouble from which great events were to come began when Everard Dominey, who had been fighting his way through the scrub for the last three quarters of an hour towards those thin, spiral wisps of smoke, urged his pony to a last despairing effort and came crashing through the great oleander shrub to pitch forward on his head in the little clearing. It developed the next morning, when he... more...

CHAPTER I Lady Anselman stood in the centre of the lounge at the Ritz Hotel and with a delicately-poised forefinger counted her guests. There was the great French actress who had every charm but youth, chatting vivaciously with a tall, pale-faced man whose French seemed to be as perfect as his attitude was correct. The popular wife of a great actor was discussing her husband's latest play with a... more...

CHAPTER I ROOM NO. 317 I laid my papers down upon the broad mahogany counter, and exchanged greetings with the tall frock-coated reception clerk who came smiling towards me. "I should like a single room on the third floor east, about the middle corridor," I said. "Can you manage that for me? 317 I had last time." He shook his head at once. "I am very sorry, Mr. Courage," he... more...

CHAPTER I The Princess opened her eyes at the sound of her maid's approach. She turned her head impatiently toward the door. "Annette," she said coldly, "did you misunderstand me? Did I not say that I was on no account to be disturbed this afternoon?" Annette was the picture of despair. Eyebrows and hands betrayed alike both her agitation of mind and her nationality.... more...

CHAPTER I The Marchioness of Amesbury was giving a garden party in the spacious but somewhat urban grounds of her mansion in Kensington. Perhaps because it was the first affair of its sort of the season, and perhaps, also, because Cecilia Amesbury had the knack of making friends in every walk of life, it was remarkably well attended. Two stockbrokers, Roger Kendrick and his friend Maurice White, who... more...

CHAPTER I—THE MAN AT STEPHANO's The thing happened so suddenly that I really had very little time to make up my mind what course to adopt under somewhat singular circumstances. I was seated at my favorite table against the wall on the right-hand side in Stephano's restaurant, with a newspaper propped up before me, a glass of hock by my side, and a portion of the plat du jour, which happened... more...

CHAPTER I Andrew Tallente stepped out of the quaint little train on to the flower-bedecked platform of this Devonshire hamlet amongst the hills, to receive a surprise so immeasurable that for a moment he could do nothing but gaze silently at the tall, ungainly figure whose unpleasant smile betrayed the fact that this meeting was not altogether accidental so far as he was concerned. "Miller!" he... more...

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