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. “Can you come out tonight?” “Um, sure, I guess. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere. “Of course. ‘Do you need an excuse?’ ‘Oh, you know what doctors are. . But Manning seemed more and more clearly indicated as a refuge, as security. Jackson’s. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman.
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