"Will it be proper prayers sittin' here?"
"Old Mrs. Jones always sits in church," suggested David.
"I b'lieve her legs won't bend."
"Mother can't kneel down," David said in a low voice.
"More she can." Sandy was hopeful again at this thought. "There's two apiece," he went on thoughtfully, "and one over. You say yours an' Ross's—I'll say mine an' Orme's. How 'bout Barbie's? We couldn't say half each, could we?" doubtfully.
"No; we will both say Barbie's prayers for her," decided David.
The low voices stopped. For a space there was silence. Then Sandy spoke—
"Have you nearly done, Dave? I've got as far's Barbie's."
There was no response, and Sandy, respecting the silence which he took for the hush of devotion, held his peace, and essayed for the third time his evening prayer.