” He replied. ‘You’re right. Earles himself stood upon the threshold of his sanctum, the prototype of the smart natty Jew, with black hair, waxed moustache, and a wired flower in his button-hole. Maybe later. " "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife. His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. From a bi-secting street came shouting and music.
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