They had shut themselves up in the dining-room, in the yellow-ochreish light. Mamma sat in her arm-chair, tired and patient, holding her Bible and her Church Service on her knees, ready. Every now and then she dozed. When this happened Mary took the Bible from her and read where it opened: "And he made the candlestick of pure gold: of beaten work made he the candlestick; his shaft, and his branch, his bowls, his knops, and his flowers, were of the same…. And in the candlestick were four bowls made like almonds, his knops and his flowers: And a knop under two branches of the same, and a knop under two branches of the same, and a knop under two branches of the same, according to the six branches going out of it. Their knops and their branches were of the same: all of it was one beaten work of pure gold."
At two o'clock the bell of Renton Church began to toll. Her mother sat up in a stiff, self-conscious attitude and opened the Church Service. The bell went on tolling. For Papa.
It stopped. Her mother was saying something.
"Mary—I can't see with the blind down. Do you think you could read it to me?"
* * * * *
"'I am the Resurrection and the Life—'"
A queer, jarring voice burst out violently in the dark quiet of the room.
It carried each sentence with a rush, making itself steady and hard.
"'…He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live….
"'I said, I will take heed to my ways: that I offend not with my tongue—'"
"Not that one," her mother said.