“I did not recognize him,” Anna answered. 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. ‘It is London’s loss, ma’am. He was normal now, and the coat was only a coat. “She must be warned. "There's a young woman. “Did he tell you, Annabel?” “Yes.
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