Ludlum appeared between the brown curtains of the library doorway—the sketch of a rather pale child-prince in black velvet. “No, but——” he said.
“But what?”
“It was all light in there then. Mamma an’ you were in there, too.”
“Now look here!” Mr. Thomas paused, rested his book upon his knee, and spoke slowly. “You know there’s nothing in that dining-room except the table and the chairs and the sideboard, don’t you?”
Ludlum’s eyes were not upon his father but upon the graceful figure at the other side of the table. “Mamma,” he said, “won’t you please come get my bow-an’-arry for me?”
“Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes, sir,” the boy replied, with eyes still pleadingly upon his mother.
“Well, then, what is there to be afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid,” said Ludlum. “It’s dark in there.”
“It won’t be dark if you turn on the light, will it?”