I should feel that I had been obliged to find some one else to fight my battles for me. . ‘Cousin? But I am a fool. Take the one that struck him at this moment. 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. Silken open robes over full tiffany petticoats in a contrasting colour were, Lucy assured him, of the very latest Parisian design, cut by the finest French tailors.
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