Now the Pompeii folks didn't know a saint or a bishop by sight, and
Jupiter, as Aunt Caroline says, was never properly qualified to
interfere. That's how it was, I _presume_. I don't suppose the people of
Naples take much stock in the laws of nature; they don't have to, with
Januarius in a drawer. And real estate keeps booming right along."
"You have an extraordinary way of putting things," remarked Mrs.
Portheris to her nephew. "Very extraordinary. But I am glad to hear that
you agree with me," and she looked as if she did not understand momma's
acquiescent smile.
We went our several ways to see the baths, and the Comic Theatre, the
bakehouse and the gymnasium; and I had a little walk by myself in the
Street of Abundance, where the little empty houses waited patiently on
either side for those to return who had gone out, and the sun lay full
on their floors of dusty mosaic, and their gardens where nothing grew.
It seemed to me, as it seems to everybody, that Pompeii was not dead,
but asleep, and her tints were so clear and gay that her dreams might be
those of a ballet-girl.
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