They walked side by side for a time. ' But I don't value that, because I think it applies to one who marries a widow with encumbrances; and that's not my case, you know. " "Not now—not now!" she returned, with a shudder. "Mac, did you ever run across a missioner by the name of Enschede?" "Enschede?" McClintock stared at the ceiling. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. "Hush!" she said, putting her lean fingers to her lips. She hoped to turn him off with the mention of Study Halls and detentions, as there were no such animals in 204 Martin’s world of high pressure academics. "Surely," he added, staring at Rowland, "either I'm greatly mistaken, or it is—" "You are not mistaken, Baptist," returned Rowland with a gesture of silence; "it is your old friend. You're the first widow I ever heard of who could withstand that lure. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. “Hello, Vee!” he said. "This locket," he said, taking a little ornament attached to a black ribband from his breast, and giving it her,—"do you remember it?" "I do—I do!" cried Winifred.
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