’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. “I’m sorry Mister McCloskey! I was out seeing my boyfriend!” He stared at her concernedly. 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. I have had my day; and there were women in it. I suppose I believe in God. ” “That’s horrible!” He gasped. 192 Her skirt had ridden almost to her hips.
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