“I don’t remember myself. But when I was a little chap, I used to love ‘Rollo in Rome,’ and one of those page headings was just those words: ‘Rollo’s excellent rule about dangers.’ Now, if we only remembered it, we could put it to use.”
“I know it,” said Milly, smiling for the first time that morning.
“You do! Good, the country is safe! Tell it to us.”
“Why, you know, that funny Mr. George was going about with Rollo, and he told him not to go too near the edge of some place. So Rollo said, ‘You may go as near as you think safe, Mr. George, and I will keep back an inch from where you go.’ ‘Very well,’ said Mr. George.”
“Right you are!” said Floyd, “ that’s it! But I suppose it doesn’t apply to this case exactly. However it’s splendid to remember if we’re in the right sort of danger at any time. Don’t you just love Rollo, anyway?”
“Yes, indeed,” said Milly, brightening, “and Mr. George too; he was so indulgent. He always said ‘Very well,’ no matter what Rollo wanted to do.”
“I’m not like that,” declared Peter Homer. “I expect you all to say ‘Very well,’ to whatever I want to do. So first we’ll go in here to the Capuchin Church. Alight, everybody.”
Their lumbering vehicle stopped, and they all went into the old church.
Its unadorned and unattractive exterior made Patty wonder why they came there, and the interior was not much more interesting.
Mr. Homer made his little band of Wonderers pause while a monk drew aside a curtain and revealed Guido Reni’s famous painting of “St. Michael and the Enemy.”