“Do not be frightened, dear,” she said. Earles said, slowly, keeping his eyes fixed upon her, “forty at the ‘Unusual,’ two turns, encores voluntary, six for matinées. She herself, and one other there, recognized the interposition of something akin to tragedy. Your aunt liked the pheasant. "He hash eshcaped!" cried the Jew. “It is hard to express one’s self, but I do want to be honest with you. " "Six," he corrected. 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. 1. Suddenly she understood.
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