She hugged Lucy, who had finished eating. "Mac, did you ever run across a missioner by the name of Enschede?" "Enschede?" McClintock stared at the ceiling. “It rests with them by the nature of things. ’ ‘Then you’re mad,’ Roding said flatly, and suddenly grinned. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. Do you know how late it is?” She nodded.
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