"Mac, did you ever run across a missioner by the name of Enschede?" "Enschede?" McClintock stared at the ceiling. 9. Life seemed a very brave and glorious enterprise to Ann Veronica that day. Some of their specimens—wonderfully selected, wonderfully got up. The bleach had ruined it, with yellow-orange streaks invading the frizzy white that cascaded in wavy tendrils coated with greasy hairspray. “We have,” he said, “to be the utmost friends. “I cannot reason with you,” he said at last wearily. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. I am sure that he can be got rid of. "The warrant for his execution is arrived.
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