“The boys said you let me go to the Temple all I want to; but I told them the Miracle was different, and I'd have to ask you first. I told Mis' Hingston, and I told the boys. Me 'n' Benny got them to come round. Kin I, mother? Mis' Hingston thought may be—may be—you might come yourself. But I told her I didn't believe you would.”
“No, I won't go, Joey. What makes you want to go?”
“Oh, I don't know. All the boys are goin'. And I never seen a miracle yet.”
“Do you believe he can do a miracle?”
“Well, it would be some fun to see what he would do if he didn't. I'd like to hear what he'd say.”
“And what would you think if he did do it? That he was—God?”
“Oh, no, mother! He couldn't be. Mr. Dylks couldn't. I ain't ever thought for a minute that he was that.”
“And if he failed—if he tried, and put himself to shame before everybody, how would you feel?”
“Well, mother, nobody as't him to.” Nancy was silent for so long that the boy said discouragedly, “But if you don't want me to go—”
Her face hardened from the pity of her inward vision of the man's humiliation, as if his own son had judged him justly. “Yes, you can go, Joey. But be careful, be careful! And don't stay too late. And if anything happens—”