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. Having made a hole in the wall sufficiently large to pass through, Jack first tossed the bar into the room and then crept after it. He put an arm around her. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling.
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