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. Forgetting her occupation in her anger, she left off bathing Darrell's wrist; and, squeezing his arm so tightly that the boy winced with pain, she clapped her right hand upon her hip, and turned, with flashing eyes and an inflamed countenance, towards her crest-fallen spouse. The man Hill has persecuted me for months—ever since I have been in England. Her bald head had swollen on her shoulders, puffy with fresh blood that ringed her mouth. He described her privately to himself as a splendid girl.
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