kids but you can't believe in fairy tales as you grow up."

"But what can we do?" insisted Douglas, the sweat breaking out above his
lips again. "Doesn't the thought of no God, no hereafter, just paralyze
you?"

"I tell you," repeated Judith obstinately, "I just don't let myself think
about it."

"Then what's made you so cross ever since that night?"

Judith rose and set the brimming milk pail in a feed box. Her eyes, in
the lantern light, widened with a horror so devastating that Douglas
clutched the manger behind him.

"How did you know? Doug, that's it and there's no place to go for help
because there isn't any help for that!"

The sudden revelation of her need roused Douglas. He moistened his lips
and said, "We've got to harden ourselves to stand it, like the rest of
'em do. And when it gets too bad we can talk to each other about it.
That'll help."

Judith clutched his arm as if she felt the need of touching a human
being. Douglas did not stir but as he stood looking down at her a strange
aching gladness at her nearness and at her splendid girlhood flooded the
horror out of his thought.

"I'll carry the milk pail in for you, Jude," he said.