Why? If she had put the query to herself, she could not have answered it. “You shall,” she said. ” “What did you hear?” Lucy felt herself unwillingly compelled to hang on Michelle’s every word. 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. The gong will go at seven-thirty.
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