"_Alcohol!_" she hissed. * * * * * She stood glaring up at them, her breath coming fast and shallow, in a half-crouch that led Charley Mason to wonder if she planned to climb right over the porch rail and lace into them physically. Then, as they watched in wary silence, her anger seemed to abate a little; over a period of five seconds her fists slowly unclenched, her breath slowed, she straightened. She said in a low voice, "It's the work of the Devil. Anger is not the answer." "The Devil, ma'am?" Charley asked. "_He_ has made you do this--it is a device to keep lewd and licentious thoughts uppermost in your minds and corrupt your immortal souls. I suppose I shouldn't blame you for listening to him ... so _few_ of us _are_ able to resist his honeyed mouthings." "Ma'am," Luke said, "I don't think you should get so excited on a hot day like this. Maybe a cold coke--" "I'll pray," the fat lady said. "I'll pray for the Lord to undo this Devil's work. I'll pray that your souls be cleansed of the evil thoughts the Dark One has put there." Her pale blue eyes seemed a trifle fixed, and now she smiled, looking through the men who watched her worriedly. "I--I'm almost proud that I should have suffered this humiliation in order to help Him in His work--it is a small price to pay, to have been the object of your lustful thoughts, if I can save your souls by telling the Lord what you are doing and seeing to it that He stops you!" She gave them a pitying, sympathetic look. "You hate me now," she said, "but when you are pure you will thank me." She turned away and walked toward her car, head bowed. After a moment Luke got up from the steps and sank into a chair on the porch. "Does lust mean what I think it means?" he asked. "Guess it does," Charley said. "Well, back when I _could_ lust, I wouldn't ever have lusted _her_." They watched her get in and drive off, head still down in an attitude of prayer, eyes up so she could drive. The car reached the other end of the main street, followed the road into the trees, and vanished. Charley stared contemplatively across the yard at his outhouse. "Work of the Devil, huh?" he mused. "Well, now doesn't that beat all! I bet Heaven would kick that prayer right out of court!" "No," said a firm voice. "It was heard." * * * * * The three old men turned and saw a tall, handsome, blond young man, dressed in a neat and utterly clean white suit, standing in the center of the yard. His face wore an expression of perfect peace and abounding love. Actually, he wasn't _quite_ standing in the yard yet. When they turned, his feet were about four feet above the ground. As they watched, he floated slowly down until he was standing straight, and tall and smiling a little.