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. Perceiving he was about to take leave, Kneebone ventured to ask whom he had had the honour of addressing. "I could not believe you capable of so foul a deed. Her shoulders were gripped hard and a familiar voice spoke.
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