"The Upanishads from the Sacred Book of the East."
"Tchtt! It was that Buddhism the other day."
"Religion."
"Any religion except your own. Or else it's philosophy. You're destroying your soul, Mary. I shall write to your Uncle Victor and tell him to ask Mr. Sutcliffe not to send you any more books from that library."
"I'm seven and twenty, Mamma ducky."
"The more shame for you then," her mother said.
The clock on the Congregational Chapel struck six. They put down their books and looked at each other.
"Dan not back?" Mamma knew perfectly well he wasn't back.
"He went to Reyburn."
"T't!" Mamma's chin nodded in queer, vexed resignation. She folded her hands on her knees and waited, listening.