. 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. "Beat down their blades," cried the Master; "no bloodshed. ‘We may have to,’ Gerald answered thoughtfully, staring at the window to one side. " He held out his dry hard hand into which she placed hers. All I had to do was to piece them together. . ‘That’s better.
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