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Deep down in the crypt of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, Manhattan, rattled the bones of the Protestant Episcopal family skeleton last week. All the famed trustees* of the cathedral held their backs to the door and feigned guileless smiles, but the hollow knock of femur and tibia was audible to many observers, and while the skeleton clanked, a lone goat roamed disconsolately out of the cathedral close into the wide, wide world, and that was young Rev. Joseph B. Bernardin, who, until...
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