A gentle rustle of satisfaction animated the starched silks of the ladies of the Fifth Avenue (Manhattan) Baptist Church when the erect, square-shouldered law clerk strode down the aisle to take his seat. "There," they whispered to one another, "is the Good Young Man of our church." And later, when they walked home with their children, they were apt to say: "Winfield, I wish you wouldn't keep your hands in your pockets. He never does."Or, again:"Ulysses, don't hang your head. Stand up straight, as he...
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