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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Moon-Face and Other Stories by Jack London: half-hearted protests from Mrs. Grantly, as Aunt Mildred withdrew.
"Robert can return," she called back, "as soon as he has seen me to my tent."
"It would be a shame to give it up now," Mrs. Grantly said. "There is no
telling what we are on the verge of. Won't you try it, Miss Story?"
Lute obeyed, but when she placed her hand on the board she was conscious of a
vague and nameless fear at this toying with the supernatural. She was
twentieth-century, and the thing in essence, as her uncle had said, was
mediaeval. Yet she could not shake off the instinctive fear that arose in
her--man's inheritance from the wild and howling ages when his hairy, apelike
prototype was afraid of the dark and personified the elements into things of
fear.
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