She realized that with a pang of disgust and horror. “You are very stupid, Anna,” she said. . . And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about 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. In a few minutes more he had made a breach in the roof wide enough to allow him to pass through.
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