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. From thoughts of fame to thoughts of mere bread and butter! It seemed to Spurlock that he had tumbled off the edge of Somewhere into the abyss of Nowhere. There was no need to be afraid for me. Two children, who had been caught in the jam-closet: ingratiating smiles, back of which lay doubt and fear. "Yes, yes," replied Edgeworth Bess. Well, it's scarcely credible.
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