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. She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. They would be partners only in loneliness. ” With a little crash the pistol fell from her shaking fingers. The two friends contrasted strikingly with each other. .
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