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. ‘It’s a pretty name. Gwen—I saw Gwen the other day, and the paint’s thicker than ever. We can see round them and behind them and through them, and most of us use that knowledge, in the silent way we have, for our great ends. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. ‘The more I hear about this Leonardo,’ Lucy said severely, ‘the more I want to meet your Melusine. ” She rolled over on her face, and stuffed her fingers in her ears to shut out the rhythm from her mind.
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