Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. I suppose my creed is, ‘I believe rather indistinctly in God the Father Almighty, substratum of the evolutionary process, and, in a vein of vague sentimentality that doesn’t give a datum for anything at all, in Jesus Christ, His Son. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones.
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