When the lad is fit to be moved, we’ll bring him home. A sinister thought edged in. 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. Lucia liked the doctor though, and he seemed to be very fond of her too. His obtuse hands punched and jabbed at her uselessly, then he throttled her neck with the last of his strength.
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