” He stood before the door. 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. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. " "Stick the spike into him, then," returned Sheppard, coolly, "while I unbar the outlet. To her consternation, the sound drew her great-aunt’s attention and she threw out a hand. What!— you know so little of that child? She ran away from you. Her father became much less distant towards his only daughter in the days that followed. He was a stranger. “But I must, I will,” he answered fiercely.
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