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. She wondered wildly why she had stood up. ‘While you are making me this interrogation, my poor Jacques bleeds to death. Rumors had it he had been a looker in his youth, all long hair and chiseled muscles, but those days were long gone. Mesdames Thierry and Poussaint appeared delighted to meet Gerald, and he was obliged to do the pretty to their daughters too.
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