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. ‘Wait! At least tell me where I can find you. Winifred's face had a thoroughly amiable look. It was—in connection with this man Hill. They knew they were all Bogey in disguise. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. "Mac, did you ever run across a missioner by the name of Enschede?" "Enschede?" McClintock stared at the ceiling.
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