‘But for my dowry, what else? One cannot expect that an Englishman will marry any jeune demoiselle without a dowry. “Ann Veronica has never looked quite so well, I think,” said Capes, clinging, because of a preconceived plan, to the suppressed topic. ‘You don’t know him. His commissions this day would not fill his metal pipe with one wad of tobacco. 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 don't know anything about you. I don't threaten idly, as you know.
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