He was content to talk about himself, though in the back of his clever mind he already suspected that she was not offering any details about her life. He shut his eyes and groped for the wall to steady himself, wondering if this bit of mummery would get over. 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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