Sheppard. “Thank you,” she said coolly. 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. “I have had adventures—oh, more than one, I can assure you. There’s hardly a night she doesn’t sneak out of the house. Some of my schemes are already in hand. She was drawn first by Miss Miniver, and then by her own natural interest, into a curious stratum of people who are busied with dreams of world progress, of great and fundamental changes, of a New Age that is to replace all the stresses and disorders of contemporary life.
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