For a moment the nausea seized her so fiercely that she gasped, catching at her throat; and she stared at that bowed head and shaking shoulders with a horror that she had not felt before.  The laughter was worse than all:  and it was a little while before she perceived its unreality.  It was like a laughing machine.  And the silence of it gave it a peculiar touch.

She wrestled with herself, driving down the despair that was on her.  Courage and love.

Again she leaned back without speaking, closing her eyes to shut out the terror, and began desperately and resolutely to bend her will again to the task.

Again a little sound disturbed her.

Once more he had shifted his position, and was looking straight at her with a curious air of detached interest.  His face looked almost natural, though it was still flushed with that forced laughter; but the mirth itself was gone.  Then he spoke abruptly and sharply, in the tone of a man who speaks to a tiresome child; and a little conversation followed, in which she found herself taking a part, as in an unnatural dream.

“You had better take care,” he said.

“I am not afraid.”

“Well—­I have warned you.  It is at your own risk.  What are you doing?”

“I am praying.”

“I thought so....  Well, you had better take care.”

She nodded at him; closed her eyes once more with new confidence, and set to work.

After that a series of little scenes followed, of which, a few days later, she could only give a disconnected account.

She had heard the locking of the front door a long while ago; and she knew that the household was gone to bed.  It was then that she realized how long the struggle would be.  But the next incident was marked in her memory by her hearing the tall clock in the silent hall outside beat one.  It was immediately after this that he spoke once more.

“I have stood it long enough,” he said, in that same abrupt manner.

She opened her eyes.

“You are still praying?” he said.

She nodded.

He got up without a word and came over to her, leaning forward with his hands on his knees to peer into her face.  Again, to her astonishment, she was not terrified.  She just waited, looking narrowly at the strange person who looked through Laurie’s eyes and spoke through his mouth.  It was all as unreal as a fantastic dream.  It seemed like some abominable game or drama that had to be gone through.

“And you mean to go on praying?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think it’s the slightest use?”

“Yes.”

He smiled unnaturally, as if the muscles of his mouth were not perfectly obedient.

“Well, I have warned you,” he said.

Then he turned, went back to his couch, and this time lay down on it flat, turning over on his side, away from her, as if to sleep.  He settled himself there like a dog.  She looked at him a moment; then closed her eyes and began again.