His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. And now—Dear! Dear! The dayspring from on high hath visited me. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. “To-night we are as we have always been. ’ ‘That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.
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