He
hesitated, stammered, grew more red and uncertain, and finally burst out:
"The Lord," he said, and then looked about hopelessly, "the Lord maketh me
to lie out in green pastures."
In the seats behind him a titter arose. A young woman sitting among the
singers in the choir put her handkerchief to her face and throwing back
her head rocked back and forth. A man near the door guffawed loudly and
went hurriedly out. All over the church people began laughing.
Sam turned his eyes upon his mother. She was staring straight ahead of
her, and her face was red. "I'm going out of this place and I'm never
coming back again," he whispered, and, stepping into the aisle, walked
boldly toward the door. He had made up his mind that if the evangelist
tried to stop him he would fight. At his back he felt the rows of people
looking at him and smiling. The laughter continued.
In the street he hurried along consumed with indignation. "I'll never go
into any church again," he swore, shaking his fist in the air. The public
avowals he had heard in the church seemed to him cheap and unworthy. He
wondered why his mother stayed in there. With a sweep of his arm he
dismissed all the people in the church.
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