His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. Julian had been working his way through college at a factory and was close to graduation. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her into the young man's room. She glanced at the soft-ticking clock with the exposed brass pendulum upon the white marble mantel, and made a rapid calculation. I must not let you go again. "He has not the power—perhaps not the will to do so. ” She smiled at him cheerfully.
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