The volunteers from the city were few and the voices were of ordinary quality.
"There will be a small meeting tonight, John," said his wife, as they entered the tent a little after seven o'clock and began to arrange the chairs and light up.
"Yes, I fear so." Mr.Gray was a small, energetic man, with a pleasant voice and the courage of a high-born fighter.

He had already made friends in the neighborhood and one of his converts, a heavy-faced man who had just come in, began to help in the arranging of seats.
It was after eight o'clock when Alexander Powers opened the door of his office and started for home.

He was going to take a car at the corner of the Rectangle.

But he was roused by a voice coming from the tent.
It was the voice of Rachel Winslow.

It struck through his consciousness of struggle over his own question that had sent him into the Divine Presence for an answer.