“Mrs. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. “I heard nothing,” he declared, “and my ears are good. 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. "Your hesitation convinces me he does," replied the widow.
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