other person just now most poignantly of Le Seyeux's mind in respect to Tinker. Olivia and her mother, who was tearful (not because of St. Augustine), sat waiting in an automobile before the church at the top of the hill, while the two men descended to the stone-covered grave of the great Bishop.
"Who'd you say he was?" Tinker asked, for the third time.
"It is Saint Augustine."
"What'd he do, John?"
"He was the great ecclesiastical authority of the Fourth Century. He was Bishop. He was the great religious power of his time."
"Preacher, I expect," Tinker said thoughtfully. "What denomination was he?"
Le Seyeux's eyes showed a little wildness; but he answered simply, "He was of the Church."
"Which one?" Then, seeing that the courier seemed to have a difficulty in comprehending him, his employer kindly explained the question. "You know in our country, John, we got Methodists and Presbyterians and Unitarians and Episcopalians and Catholics and Christian Scientists and Baptists and Quakers and Seventh-Day Adventists, and Campbellites and Dunkards and Shakers and Lutherans
