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. ‘Melusine, don’t sit there. She mentally resolved to do her best to avoid personal encounters with him in that instant. To-morrow we'll raise our first island. But we were both pledged to secrecy, and I couldn’t reveal my part for fear that I would lose my place. One glance through the window at that picturesque head had been sufficient.
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