"They never are. Men say things they don't mean to women out of traditional reverence for the exploded idea of the weaker vessel. When you meet a child your first thought is to give it sweets; when you talk with us the same thought is translated into polite lies. And we never believe you--never," Leah assured him. "Plain or beautiful, vain or humble, we price the words directly. In no case have I found them to be of value." "You make us out to be fools." "One must be truthful at times. Of course, I always except you, Lionel, as you are more man than parson." "Cannot I be both?" "Oh, yes, when miracles occur. Lately I heard of a parson who laboured solitary and freezing amongst the snows of Labrador for a poor eighty pounds a year. He was emphatically a man." "And a parson," supplemented the vicar; "so, you see, miracles do occur." A warm colour crept into Leah's cheeks, and she looked piercingly at her companion. "Do they? Nowadays, I mean. I am not using a mere phrase, believe me. Honestly now, could those Gospel miracles occur in this twentieth century?" Lionel mused, and considered a careful reply. "Our Master was given the Spirit without measure as a man because He was the Son of the Most High; by that wisdom did He work His marvels. But the Apostles, in His power, also prevailed over the apparently natural, showing signs and wonders to the glory of the Risen Lord and His Father. 'With faith ye can do all things,' said the blessed Jesus Himself. Yes, Leah, I reverently believe that with purity, faith, and a humble trust in the Father by the merits of the Son, and by the power of the Holy Ghost, miracles could take place to-day." "Then why don't they?" she asked abruptly. The vicar, sighing, dropped into the high-pitched sing-song of the pulpit. "A faithless and perverse generation----" "A scientific generation, you mean. I don't believe--I can't believe--and I won't believe. Prove the power of your Master. You have faith; you are good; you----" "No, no! You go too fast. I assuredly try to be good, but I am sadly wanting in many ways. I have faith, but how weak, how faltering. Who am I, to claim that the Lord should select me to reveal His strength unto men? I can work no miracle, Leah. Would to God that I could, if only to convince you!" "Would to God that you could!" she echoed with something like a groan, and the faint flush disappeared, like the dying out of a hope. "Why do you, a sceptic, ask about these things?" Leah, possessed by the spirit of the perverse, laughed maliciously. "Jim is trying to be good; why should not I try also, since a wife is bound to follow her husband, according to St. Paul, who by the way was a bachelor? But," her mood shifted, "Jim has a tin-pot sort of faith which is better than nothing. I have not, and so, like your unbelieving Jews, require a sign."