" "Can you make me honest?" cried Jack. F. 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. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. But I’m generously ignorant of gems. "Thames Darrell only waits my mandate to follow him.
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