"Mac, did you ever run across a missioner by the name of Enschede?" "Enschede?" McClintock stared at the ceiling. " So saying, he sprang, with a bound like that of a tiger-cat, against the throat of the woollen-draper. You are to come home. Immediately behind this individual, came a pale, poverty-stricken woman, whose forlorn aspect contrasted strongly with his plump and comfortable physiognomy. “There is some one else whom I care for!” He laughed hardly. "I never told anybody," she went on. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. ” He called for a hansom. She always dawdled, so it was easy.
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