It fell to Wilfred’s part to show Joe out of the front door. When they got out in the hall Wilfred’s heart was pounding, and he had a difficulty in getting his breath. Not for anything would he have looked at Joe; he knew without looking, how Joe’s hard, bright, all-knowing eyes were fixed on his face; and Joe’s thin protuberant upper lip was flattened in a zestful grin. As Wilfred stood holding the door open, Joe came so close to him that he could feel the warmth of his body, and stood there, trying to make Wilfred look at him. But Wilfred would not. “Goin’ to take a walk to-night?” Joe murmured. Wilfred, nearly suffocated by the beating of his heart, silently shook his head. “Well . . . any time you feel like it . . . come on down. You’ll find me somewheres around those corners. . . . I’ll show you ’round.” Joe ran down the steps thinking: Funny look that kid’s got. But I got him going. Wonder why he takes it so hard? . . . Oh, to hell with them; the whole three of them is easy! I can get what I want out of them. . . . Wilfred closed the door, and leaned his forehead against the ornamental glass pane. It had a sort of Gothic arch cut in the glass, from which depended a number of meaningless tails, each winding up in a curlicue. Wilfred, nauseated, was thinking: “Any time . . . any time . . . that means I’ll have to fight it every night. . . . Wouldn’t it be better to give in at once, and save all that? . . . Disgust might cure me. . . .” From the drawing-room Aunt May called him. VI Mrs. Boardman poured her sister a second cup of coffee. Wilfred had just departed for school, and the sisters were able to talk more freely. “Sister,” said Mrs. Boardman, looking very uncomfortable, “do you . . . do you entirely believe Joe’s story?” Miss Gittings looked no less uncomfortable, but answered quickly: “I see no reason. . . . Huh? . . . Obviously Joe was too ignorant to . . . anyhow, you and I agreed long ago that it was better to be deceived than to be sceptical!” “Wilfred says. . . .” Miss Gittings caught her up. “And since when have we been taking Wilfred as an. . . . Huh? . . . Oh, Wilfred is so . . . I declare, Fanny! You know it as well as I do!” “But Joe’s story does vary, sister.” “That signifies nothing. A spiritual experience is susceptible of various. . . . Huh?” “Well, very likely you’re right. . . . What are you going to do about him?” “Do about him?” “Well, he keeps coming here. . . .” “I don’t see why you should put the entire responsibility up to me!” said Miss Gittings tartly. “You brought him here the first time.” “I didn’t!” “Sister!” “He brought me. . . . Huh? . . .” “Oh, he makes me so uncomfortable!” cried Mrs. Boardman from her heart. “And you, too, sister! It is useless for you to deny it!”