Every one stared at Anna. Anna stared back at every one with undaunted composure. A young man with shiny frock coat and very high collar, advanced towards her languidly.
“Want to see Mr. Earles?” he inquired.
“I do,” Anna answered. “Here is my card. Will you take it in to him?”
The young man smiled in a superior manner.
“Have to take your turn,” he remarked laconically. “There’s twenty before you, and Mr. Earles is going out at twelve sharp—important engagement. Better come another morning.”
“Thank you,” Anna answered. “I will take my chance.”
She removed some posters from a chair, and seated herself coolly. The young man looked at her.
“Unless you have an appointment, which you haven’t,” he said, “you’ll only waste your time here.”
“I can spare it,” Anna answered suavely.
The young man entered into a lively little war of words with a yellow-haired young person near the door. Anna picked up an ancient magazine, and began to turn over the pages in a leisurely way. The conversation which her entrance had interrupted began to buzz again all around her. A quarter of an hour passed. Then the inner door opened abruptly. A tall, clean-shaven man came out and walked rapidly through the room, exchanging greetings right and left, but evidently anxious to avoid being detained. Mr. 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. A florid-looking young woman rose up and accosted him eagerly.