” He glanced over at her cockeyed, and then returned his gaze to the road. He worked afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could not. He remained standing by the stem of the proa, his glance roving investigatingly. "Mac, did you ever run across a missioner by the name of Enschede?" "Enschede?" McClintock stared at the ceiling. But that title he would not endure.
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