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In his clubs, or anywhere but here, he might have indulged himself to the extent of having a little fun with these people. But not in his own home, while he was acting as host at his sister's wedding. Here his manner was perfect, though colored by the exhilaration of his mood. "No," Warren and Epstein heard him say to Mrs. Lytton and Mrs.
The La Mode Cloak and Suit Company may turn out to be our old friend Lazarus Epstein; but we have the service of the principal commercial agencies to aid us in becoming better acquainted with our policyholders.
Yet he does it so winningly that's the word, I think that any jury would acquit him. And his slang uh!" He shrugged his shoulders. "Fierce, ain't it?" said Tommy smilingly. "But can he really read these books?" Whimple reiterated. "You should hear him and see him tackling the dictionary when he's stuck. Besides I'm telling you everything mind in confidence 'Chuck' Epstein reads with him."
We called her Dolly after Flo Dearmore's mother, who was very good to us" here he looked smilingly at Tommy, who had blushed at the mention of Flo's name "my little girl had beautiful brown eyes just like Dolly Turnpike's." He left them then. Whimple lingered a little while and finally blurted out "I never knew that about Epstein."
Struck, Ashkenasi, Maimon, Hirszenberg, Gottlieb, Epstein, Löbschütz, and Schatz are the leaders of this new movement.
Epstein assisted him to stand, for the lad was overwhelmed with embarrassment that amounted to fear. He never knew just what he said at first, but when he recovered sufficiently to realise that the faces turned toward him were kindly, and the smiles were encouraging, his self-possession returned.
At the words Bangs uttered an odd sound, half a gasp and half a groan. Epstein, again in his pit of wretchedness, caught it. "Now you see the job ve done!" he muttered. "Now you see how ve looked after him, like she told us to!" Bangs paid no attention to him. "What are you going to do?" he heavily asked Laurie.
Laurie looked at him, and something in the look almost spiked the big gun. But Epstein was a man of action, and, notwithstanding his nervousness, a man of some nerve. The expression in the boy's black eyes had stunned him, but with only an instant's hesitation he finished what he had meant to say. "I guess it ain't nothing ve can't fix up," he jerked out, trying to speak with his usual assurance.
He tenderly lifted her to his knees, and with an arm around her little body, held her close to his side. William was dethroned, and he knew it, and accepted the situation quite calmly, though he did not laugh so heartily as the others when Pete demanded, "Tell us one of your stories, Mr. Epstein, they beat Billy's to bits." And Epstein told one, and then another, and another. He acted them too.
Her last glance, full of significance, was for Mr. Arnheim. The floor above he also left the elevator, the smile still on his lips. Left alone, Mr. Epstein turned to Miss Blondheim. "Good night, dearie," he whispered. "Thweet dreamth." "Good night, Louie," she replied. "Same to you." Mr.
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