The child puckered his brows.
"How can he be everywhere if he sits on a cloud in the sky? Is he here now, in this room?"
"Yes, dear."
"Then why can't I see Him?"
"He is here like the air,—you can't see the air."
"Is He in my soup?" he inquired eagerly, "does I eat Him in my spoon?"
Ragna could not help smiling. Mimmo's questions often puzzled her as to how to answer them in a way suited to the child's understanding. This time, she hedged.
"Eat your soup, darling; you are too little to understand yet. When you are older, Mammina will tell you."
Mimmo addressed himself to his task, but he turned the question over in his childish mind, and when Valentini made his tardy appearance, greeted him with:
"Babbo, Mammina says that I am eating up God in my soup, and that He will punish you,—but if I eat Him up, he won't be able to, will He?"