Halting at the foot of the stoop he turned and peered through his glasses at his sister-in-law.
"I don't want Stephen to start any nonsense about going."
"Going where?" she asked innocently.
He hesitated: "I don't want to hear any talk from him about enlisting. That is what I mean. Your influence counts with him more deeply than you know. Remember that."
"Steve—enlist!" she repeated blankly.
She could not yet comprehend what all this had to do with people she personally knew—with her own kin.
"He must not enlist, of course," she said curtly. "There are plenty of soldiers—there will be plenty, of course. I——"
Something silenced her, something within her sealed her lips. She stood in silence while Craig fitted his night-key, then entered the house with him. Gas burned low in the hall globes; when he turned it off a fainter light from above guided them.
"Celia, is that you?" she called gently,
"Hush; go to bed, Honey-bell. Everybody is asleep. How pale you are, Curt—dearest—dearest——"