There would be moments like this, Sarah would turn off the electric light, and the room would be lit only by the dim shining of the evening sky.
"Now, Mary, you go over to that corner--that dark one--and wait there till I tell you to come out.

I'll go outside the room, and then you'll see what will happen." "Oh, no, Sarah, I don't want to." "Why not, you silly baby ?" "I--I don't want to." "Well, it will be much worse for you if you don't." "I want to go home." "You can after you have done that." "I want to go home now." "Go into the corner first." Sarah would leave the room and Mary would stand with her face to the wall, a trembling prey to a thousand terrors.

The light would quiver and shake, steps would tread the floor and cease, there would be a breath in her ears, a wind above her head.

She would try to pray, but could remember no words.

Sarah would lead her forth, shaking from head to foot.
"You little silly.