Miss Garvice repeated again, and almost in the same words she used at every discussion, her contribution to the great question. 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. He turned and shouted some orders to the Kanaka crew, then nodded to the sampan's coolies, who bore upon the sweeps and headed for the Sha-mien. “I’d give anything,” he remarked, “to see our little Vee happily and comfortably married. Even the horns were easing into the concept and the woodwinds in the second movement were particularly well-orchestrated.
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