"He knows exactly the kind of things Indians tell, and tells it very much better." "You mean he--he fakes it ?" "Well--he calls it 'editing.'" "But, my dear girl, you can't edit folk-lore!" "Father can." "But--but it isn't done! Such material loses all value if not authentic." "Does it ?" The question was indifferent.

So indifferent, in the face of a matter of such moment, that Hamilton Spence writhed upon his couch.

Here at least there was room for genuine missionary work.

He cleared his throat.
"I will tell you just how much it matters," he began firmly.

But the fates were not with him, neither was his audience.