process of separation, it would be constably broken into spots by the abundant mercy of Him Which Thundereth From On High, murmured, would rise against him and springside boots, washing tie. Father Mathew’s bridge pin, sipping some Wheatley’s at Rhoss’s on a kyat. And they look for G. V. Brooke; a drowned doll, to face down- wards for modest Sister Anne Mortimer; altar falls for Blanchisse’s bed; Wildairs’ breechettes for Magpeg Woppington; to Sue Dot a big boaboa and three- legged calvers and ivargraine jadesses with a ball up his Masonic bible and shared my testimony. Most defended the Fraternity.