And now— I suppose I should be considered too old. “You have killed me. 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. But if only you will come I do not care. And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter o' puppies. “His dress for no man lays a snare; A man scores always, everywhere. Given time and the right environment, and he would outgrow these defects. But I mean to have them. “A wonderful piece of work,” he declared.
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