" "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. Muffling up his face, Jack turned away; but he had not proceeded many steps when he heard a man reading aloud an account of his escapes from a newspaper. 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. ’ Melusine could not regard this view with anything but scepticism. ” “I wish you would use my Christian name,” he said. "He is all alone. Did you hear us through the archway, talking cookery?” They went up by the lift in silence.
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