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. At half after five that afternoon the doctor and his friend McClintock entered the office of the Victoria. “He naturally does not wish for connexions which are—I do not wish to hurt you feelings, Anna, but I must say it—not altogether desirable. "Hell's curses!" muttered Jonathan between his teeth; "that fool will ruin all.
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