He heard the struggle on the landing, the fall of the heavy body, the groan,—and excited almost to frenzy by his fears, he succeeded in forcing open the door. “Hello, Gwen!” said Ann Veronica, trying to put every one at their ease. I will be very well without him. I was worried. Her anger died and she eyed him. 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.
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