“Exactly. It was old and shabby, despite its richness, and we think it must be rotten. There is every indication that it may give way again, and so we are making all speed with the new one.”
“Then you are not superstitious enough to think it gave way before from anything but natural causes?”
He looked at her sharply and narrowly.
“Oh, no,” he answered. “One can find a natural cause for everything. Therein lies the greater miracle.”
“But how?” said Rosalie, subduing her tongue in deferential attention to the pillar of the Church.
He smiled, as became one of exalted intellect.
“Well, there is nothing like order—cause and effect—to work a lasting miracle. A startling thing has a short life. The rottenness of the curtain was the symbol of something still more rotten. Nothing takes place in a day.”
Rosalie’s eyes opened innocently, though they were very far from innocent. There is no doubt the frog must have been to blame for it.
“What is still more rotten? But perhaps my questions bore you. I am so inquisitive.”
Again he smiled.