"She told you." Laurie spoke as quietly as before, but without looking up.
"You—mean—it's—true?"
Rodney still spoke in a loud, aggressive voice, as if trying to awaken himself and the others from a nightmare.
"Take it in," muttered Laurie. "Pull yourselves up to it. I had to."
An uncontrollable shudder ran over him. As if his nerve had suddenly given way, he dropped his head on his bent arm. For another interval Bangs stood staring at him in a stupefaction through which a slow tremor ran.
"I—I can't take it in," he stammered at last.
"I know. That's the way I felt."
Laurie spoke without raising his head. Bangs, watching him, saw him shudder again, saw that his legs were giving under him, and that he was literally holding to the mantel for support. The sight steadied his own nerves. He pushed his chair forward, and with an arm across the other's shoulder, forced him down into it.
"Then, in God's name, why are we wasting time here?" he suddenly demanded. "Your car's outside. I'll drive you—anywhere. We'll get out of the country. We'll travel at night and lie low in the daytime. Pull yourself together, old man." Urgently, he grasped the other's shoulder. "We've got things to do."
Laurie shook his head. He tried to smile. There was something horrible in the resulting grimace of his twisted mouth.