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CHAPTER XXI. I was not even sure whether it was loaded. Where the stuff came from was always a mystery. ” “But what did father imagine?” “Of course he imagined! Any one would! ‘What has happened, Peter?’ I asked. 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. 1. Last night there had been no time.
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