’ He glanced at the portrait behind her. 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. Send you the shirt. Spurlock halted in his tracks. Then enter Mr. Quick, now. But how to avail himself of it was the question, for in his present garb he was sure to be recognised.
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