"I don't believe he makes his
money properly. Look at the clothes Mrs. Tamar wears! What I mean
is, I don't like his wife at all."
"It's very hard," said Paul, his voice trembling with indignation,"
that when men and women have been working for years to bring Christ
into the hearts of mankind that mountebanks and hypocrites should be
allowed to undo the work in the space of a night. I know this man
Thurston. They've had letters in the Church Times about him."
"Fancy!" said Grace, "and still he dares show his face."
"But do they really do so much harm?" asked Maggie. "I should have
thought if they only came once for a week in ten years they couldn't
make any real effect on anybody--"
"Maggie, dear," said Paul gently, "you don't understand."
As the day of the Revival approached, Maggie knew that she would go
to one of the services. She was now in a strange state of
excitement. The shock of her uncle's death had undoubtedly shaken
her whole balance, moral, physical, and mental. The fortnight that
had followed it, when she had clung like a man falling from a height
and held by a rocky ledge to the one determination not to look
either behind or in front of her, had been a strain beyond her
strength.
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