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. “Annabel!” she exclaimed. “Which one?” “The Miss Pellissier in whose rooms you were, and who sings at the ‘Unusual,’” Courtlaw answered. "Was there any other woman back there in the States?" "Nary a female.
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