Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. 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. “What the devil do you mean by coming for me like that?” Ennison exclaimed, glowering down upon him.
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