He would always see the picture of the huge, raw-boned Dutchman, haranguing and thundering the word of God into the dull ears of South Sea Islanders, who, an hour later, would be carrying fruit penitently to their wooden images. “Yes I did. They were silent and no longer observant, being more or less exhausted by the tedious action of the chairs. Never before had he seen a man like Enschede nor heard a voice like Ruth's. My only excuse is that I missed my way here, and I am leaving Paris early to-morrow morning. He was bringing the sing-song girl to the hotel! The strange cortège presently vanished below the window-sill.
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