The delay was only momentary. 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. It felt wonderful and golden to bask in the sunlight of their approval, even if their approval was fickle and dangerous. You sent back my Christmas checks. Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. ’ ‘And you do not know me. When it's done, I'll push you through.
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