And it isn't twelve o'clock yet."

All of a sudden Keith saw the cold, angry light go out of his mother's
eyes. Her face twisted convulsively. She sank into a heap on the bed,
sobbing as if her heart would break then and there.

"Carl," she screamed between two sobs. "You'll kill me if you talk like
that to me!"

"Like that," he repeated in a stunned toneless voice. Then his face
flushed almost purple. A hard look came into his eyes, and he rose so
abruptly that the chair upset behind him. At the same time he brought
down his fist with such violence that the table nearly toppled over.

"I'll be damned if I stand this kind of thing one moment longer," he
shouted hoarsely.

But even as he spoke, his eyes fell on the boy. As if by magic, his
self-control returned.

"The boy is awake," he said in his usual tone of stern reserve.

There was a moment's silence. A few more sobs came from the mother. Then
she sat up, wiped her eyes, and spoke in a tone that was almost calm:

"Go to sleep again, Keith. Your father and I were merely talking about
some things that you don't understand yet."

When she saw that the boy was crying, she came over to him, kneeled down
beside him and put her arms about him. Soon her kisses and her soothing