CHAPTER VIII. Smith, "upon my conscience. “Which one?” “The one whose life you have been making a burden, who has been all the time shielding her sister. 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. . They had chosen to deliberately and wickedly insult a lady who had done her best to entertain them for many weeks. A few short, dark locks, escaping from beneath her head-dress, showed that her hair had been removed, and had only been recently allowed to grow again.
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