Even Maggie started and glanced at the boy. He was
dead white on the instant; his lips were trembling.
"What was that?" he whispered sharp and loud.
"Just the woodwork," she said tranquilly; "the thaw has set in
tonight."
Laurie looked at her; his lips still moved nervously.
"But--but--" he began.
"Dear boy, don't you see the state of nerves--"
Again came the little sharp crack, and she stopped. For an instant she
was disturbed; certain possibilities opened before her, and she
regarded them. Then she crushed them down, impatiently and half
timorously. She stood up abruptly.
"I'm going to bed," she said. "This is too ridiculous--"
"No, no; don't leave me ... Maggie ... I don't like it."
She sat down again, wondering at his childishness, and yet conscious
that her own nerves, too, were ever so slightly on edge. She would not
look at him, for fear that the meeting of eyes might hint at more than
she meant. She threw her head back on her chair and remained looking
at the ceiling. But to think that the souls of the dead--ah, how
repulsive!
Outside the night was very still.
The hard frost had kept the world iron-bound in a sprinkle of snow
during the last two or three days, but this afternoon the thaw had
begun.
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