"Descend and take charge of the body," said Rowland, conquering his emotion by a great effort, "I will join you in a moment. The whole story of your relationship is a fabrication. En tout cas, I am not trespassing at all. The light would betray us. You know the sort of thing. 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.
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