’ ‘But I have told you not,’ she protested. Hollo rumbled in his throat. “Yes,” he said, “I shall come. She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners. 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.
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