“You’ve no right to badger me like this, Veronica,” he said. The summer arrived, speeding the Plague and with it the famine in the streets. "What is she saying to me?" Ah Cum shrugged. I can’t stand it. 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.
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