"You'll see the devil if you go to such places," said Zillah, who, besides shirking the labor of description, was anxious not to provoke unnecessarily the God of Israel.
"But I've often been to St. Paul's with the boys," said Brum.
"Have you?" She was vaguely alarmed.
"Yes, it's lovely—the stained windows and the organ. Yes, and the Abbey's glorious, too; it almost makes me cry. I always liked to hear the music with my eyes shut," he added, with forced cheeriness, "and now that'll be all right."
"But your father wouldn't like it," said Zillah feebly.
"Father wouldn't like me to read the Pilgrim's Progress," retorted Brum. "He doesn't understand these things. There's no harm in our going to Notre Dame."
"No, no; it'll be much better to save all these places for the way back, when you'll be able to see for yourself."
Too late it struck her she had missed an opportunity of breaking to Brum the real object of the expedition.
"But the Seine, anyhow!" he persisted. "We can go there to-night."
"But what can you see at night?" cried Zillah, unthinkingly.