. "What are you--"

"The Our Father, Laurie ... the Our--"

He wrenched himself backwards, striking her under the chin with his
knee. The couch slid backwards a foot against the wall, and he was on
his feet. She remained terror-stricken, shocked, looking up at the
dully flushed face that glared down on her.

"Laurie! Laurie...! Don't you understand? Say one prayer--"

"How dare you?" he whispered; "how dare you--"

She stood up suddenly--wrenching her will back to self-command. Her
breath still came quick and panting; and she waited until once more
she breathed naturally. And all the while he stood looking down at her
with eyes of extraordinary malevolence.

"Well, will you sit quietly and listen?" she said. "Will you do that?"

Still he stared at her, with lips closed, breathing rapidly through
his nostrils. With a sudden movement she turned and went to her chair,
sat down and waited.

He still watched her; then, with his eyes on her, with movements as of
a man in the act of self-defense, wheeled out the sofa to its place,
and sat down. She waited till the tension of his figure seemed to
relax again, till the quick glances at her from beneath drooping
eyelids ceased, and once more he settled down with dangling hands to
look at the fire. Then she began again, quietly and decisively.

"Your mother isn't well," she said. "No ... just listen quietly. What
is going to happen tomorrow? I'm speaking to _you_, Laurie to _you_.
Do you understand?"

"I'm all right," he said dully.

She disregarded it.

"I want to help you, Laurie. You know that, don't you? I'm Maggie
Deronnais. You remember?"

"Yes--Maggie Deronnais," said the boy, staring at the fire.

"Yes, I'm Maggie. You trust me, don't you, Laurie? You can believe
what I say? Well, I want you to fight too. You and I together. Will
you let me do what I can?"

Again the eyes rose, with that odd questioning look. Maggie thought
she perceived something else there too. She gathered her forces
quietly in silence an instant or two, feeling her heart quicken like
the pulse of a moving engine. Then she sprang to her feet.

"Listen, then--in the name of Jesus of Nazareth--"

He recoiled violently with a movement so fierce that the words died on
her lips. For one moment she thought he was going to spring. And again
he was on his feet, snarling. There was silence for an interminable
instant; then a stream of words, scorching and ferocious, snarled at
her like the