"Far from, it, Sir. E. 1. Let your father—if he chooses, leave all his wealth to his adopted son. 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. She thought of Sebastian who often returned from the charnel house that the outside world had become. “We sent for you several hours ago,” he remarked.
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