Isaac Cohen, who had
risen to his feet and stood talking in the most confidential way
with Morris--Peter listening intently. Such phrases as "Better
make the columns of marble," from Morris, and, "Well, I will talk
it over with the Rabbi," from the tailor, reached his ears.
Further relief came when Miss Felicia rose from her chair with her
hand extended to Morris, who was already taking leave of Peter and
all danger was passed when host and hostess conducted the tailor
and the architect to the door; Morris bending over Miss Felicia's
hand and kissing it with the air of a courtier suddenly aroused by
the appearance of royalty (he had been completely immersed in
Cohen's talk), and the tailor bowing to her on his way out without
even so much as touching the tips of her fingers.
"There, my dear Breen," said Peter, when he had adjusted his
cravat before the glass and brushed a few stray hairs over his
temples, "that's a man it would do you an immense amount of good
to know; the kind of a man you call worthwhile.
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