The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. 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. How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement. He can't be far off. It's certain.
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