At the opening of the van doors and the emergence into the fresh air Ann Veronica’s doubt and depression gave place to the wildest exhilaration. "Yes; he'll suspect nothing. "I mean to have no one but yourself in it. He spoke in quick nervous sentences. Take your case, for instance. Scissors with which to cut her hair, just in case. The veranda bamboo will be enough for me. "Nothing—nothing," she answered, bursting into tears. 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. Enchanted.
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