” “Fine. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. 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 noticed,” he said, “that you seem to delight in taking a topsy-turvy view of life. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. What are you to do with a mad mother at a time when you need all your wits to take care of yourself?" "Don't concern yourself further about me," returned Jack. “Contrarily, you are sitting on a sepulcher of death! It 30 is only a matter of time before the Pestilence strikes here again, Gianfrancesco. Sheppard raised her hand, and the malediction trembled upon her tongue. So the young fool had not told her! McClintock had suspected as much. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. Now you will learn the result. Will you be wanting me alone?" asked Ah Cum. "Where are you going?" cried Thames, who, though wholly disencumbered, was scarcely able to keep up with him.
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