For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. "Oh! we've lost no time, as you perceive," replied Jack. "You have forgotten your knife, Mr. \" He piped up. Something that is born anew each time we meet, and pines when we are separated. 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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