There’s that old gentleman at the end of the table—Bullding his name is. His chest heaved violently, and big tears coursed rapidly down his cheeks. ’ ‘Oh, she is English?’ repeated Alderley, interest perking up. 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.
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