"I see now! I must be remembering something I knew--something that brought me down sick.

If a man doesn't believe God was capable of becoming so enraged with Adam that only the bloody death of his own son would appease his anger toward _us_, he sends that man where--where the worm doeth something or other--what is it?
Oh, well!--of course, it's of no importance--only it came to me it was something I ought to remember if grandad should ask me about it.

What a quaint belief it must have been." "Oh, I must go!--let me, now." "Don't you find it interesting, Nance, rummaging among these musty old religions of a dead past--though I admit that this one is less pleasant to study than most of the others.

This god seems to lack the majesty and beauty of the Greek and the integrity of the Norse gods.

In fact, he was too crude to be funny--by the way, what is it I seem to recall, about eating the flesh and drinking the blood of the son?
--'unless ye eat the flesh of the son--'" She drew her hand from his now and arose in some dismay.