"Suppose we were walking in one of the excavated streets of Pompeii and I should say, 'O, girls! Look at that wall!' and you should see a rude cross carved on it, what would you think?"
"I should think they knew about Christ," answered Linnet.
The clover leaf tatting had fallen into her lap and the shuttle was on the grass.
"Yes, and is that all?"
"Why, yes," she acknowledged.
"Pompeii wasn't so far, so very far from Jerusalem and—they could hear," said Marjorie.
"And you two would pass on to a grand house with a wonderful mosaic floor and think no more about the cross."
"I suppose we would," said Linnet "Wouldn't you?"
"But I should think about the cross. I should think that the city was destroyed in 79 and be rejoiced that the inhabitants had heard of the Cross and knew its story before swift destruction overtook them. It was destroyed about forty-five years after the Crucifixion."
"I like to know that," said Marjorie. "Perhaps some of the people in it had seen St. Paul and heard him tell about the Cross."