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 came over him, and by the time he was called on to speak out, candidly and unreservedly, his eye was dilated, his cheeks flushed, his hands fidgety and clammy.

One fragmentary sentence, vague, cabalistic, impenetrable, from the previous Sunday's sermon, was still ringing in his ears.

"To be under conviction of Sin has always been the first of the formal steps that ended in conversion to the Newer and Higher Life!"

And he was under conviction of sin, sin deeper and darker than the mind of man could conceive, as he told his hearers at the beginning of his tempestuous and passionate peroration. And he went on with his confession of guilt, each iniquity seeming to be more and more elaborated and dwelt on and fondled over, until he appeared to glory in his own utter depravity. But so exultant did his evil become, so hopeless his utter diabolism, that he was gently but sternly interrupted by the Preacher himself, who obviated an impending torrent of righteous indignation by promptly calling on Miss Mehetabel Wilkins to address the meeting.