What else was there lurked in shadows and deep places; if in some mood of reverie it came out into the light, it was presently overwhelmed and hustled back again into hiding. ‘Oh, peste,’ she cried out in distressed tones. 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. "Stop thief!" roared Jonathan, who perceived the fugitive hurrying along a street towards Hatton Garden.
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