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. ‘Now I see that you are mad indeed. Lucy looked down, noticing that Michelle had left her shoes in the entryway. “Don’t you understand, Nigel,” she said softly, “that it was precisely for this I have worked so hard. Men ought not to idealize any woman. She thought of the smiles she would gather when she brought forth his first grandson. Courtlaw, who was sitting by the bedside, bent over him. I can’t.
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