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. From this singular collection Trenchard turned to regard its possessor, who was standing at a little distance from him, still engaged in earnest discourse with his attendant, and, as he contemplated his ruthless countenance, on which duplicity and malignity had set their strongest seals, he could not help calling to mind all he had heard of Jonathan's perfidiousness to his employers, and deeply regretting that he had placed himself in the power of so unscrupulous a miscreant. The doctor and another man were by his bedside when they entered the room, and there were writing materials which had evidently been used close at hand. There were no mourners. “Monsieur admires the poster?” As a rule Sir John treated such advances with cold silence. A little darling? Lord in heaven, he had taken leave of his senses.
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