"They weren't ever there, not really."
"And yet people believed in them? Is it possible?" Zillah clucked her tongue with contemptuous surprise. Then she murmured mechanically, "'Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, who openest the eyes of the blind.'"
"Well, and what do people believe in now? The Pope!" Brum reminded her. "And yet he's not true."
Zillah's heart sank. "But he's really there," she protested feebly.
"Oh yes, he's there, because pilgrims come from all parts of the world to get his blessing."
"But they wouldn't come unless he really did them good."
"Well, if you argue like that, mother, you might as well say we ought to believe in Christ."
"Hush! hush!" The forbidden word jarred on Zillah. She felt chilled and silenced. She had to call up the image of the Irish Fire-Woman to restore herself to confidence. It was clear Brum must not be told; his unfaith might spoil all. No, the deception must be kept up till his eyes were opened—in more than one sense.