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. “It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy. There isn't a nurse this side of Hong-Kong to be had. Miss Mary to the life, I said, and so she is. He stood up abruptly and went to the window. Before he could make the thrust, however, he was seized behind by Ireton, who flung himself upon him.
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