He had seen the picture.
You couldn't get round that picture.
Having made the judge uncomfortable, Dave rendered Winona so by a brief lecture upon organic evolution, with the blue jay as his text.

He said it had taken four hundred and fifty million years for man to progress thus far from the blue-jay stage--if you could call it progress, the superiority of man's brain to the jay's being still inconsiderable.
Winona was uncomfortable, because she had never been able to persuade herself that we had come up from the animals, and in any event it was not talk for the ears of innocent children.

She was relieved when the speaker strayed into the comparatively blameless field of astronomy, telling of suns so vast that our own sun became to them but a pin point of light, and of other worlds out in space peopled with beings like Mrs.
Penniman and Winona and the judge, though even here Winona felt that the lecturer was too daring.

The Bible said nothing about these other worlds out in space.

But then Dave had once, in the post office, argued against religion itself in the most daring manner, with none other than the Reverend Mallett.
It was not until the meal ended and they were again on the porch in the summer dusk that Winona made any progress in her criminal investigations.