Then he did give way a bit. Occasionally he relit his pipe. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. My politics in that matter wouldn’t be to give women votes. People, nobody, can do as they like in this world. 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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