” She thought of her father, and with an effort dismissed him from her mind. "What?—help take care of him? Why, you can't do that, Miss Enschede!" was the protest. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. Between his lectures—and primarily he was an itinerant lecturer—he manoeuvred in vain to acquire some facts regarding the girl, who she was, whence she had come; but always she countered with: "What is that?" Guileless she might be; simple, never.
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