"
Maggie paused again, looking rather serious. Her voice had risen a
little, and a new color had come to her face as she talked. She
stooped to pick up the saucer.
"Dearest, had you better--"
"Oh! yes: I've just about done," said Maggie briskly. "There's hardly
any more. Well, there's the idea. They want to get possession of human
beings and move them, so they start like that.
"Well; that's what Mr. Cathcart says happened to Laurie. One of those
Beasts came and impersonated poor Amy. He picked up certain things
about her--her appearance, her trick of stammering, and of playing
with her fingers, and about her grave and so on: and then, finally,
made his appearance in her shape."
"I don't understand about that," murmured the girl.
"Oh! my dear, I can't bother about that now. There's a lot about
astral substance, and so on. Besides, this is only what Mr. Cathcart
says. As I told you, I'm not at all sure that I believe one word of
it. But that's his idea."
Maggie stopped again suddenly, and leaned back, staring out at the
luminous green roof of hazels above her. The small cat could be
discerned half-way up the leafy tunnel swaying its body in preparation
for a pounce, while overhead sounded an agitated twittering.
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