Then she did an unaccountable thing. She hunted an old piece of tape out of her pocket, and tied to crosswise, with a big loop, round the thaler, and hung it round the neck of the little Saint.

Then she went away.

“The only possible explanation,” said the Goblin, “is that it’s a bad one.”

“What is that decoration your neighbour is wearing?” asked a wyvern that was wrought into the capital of an adjacent pillar.

The Saint was ready to cry with mortification, only, being of stone, he couldn’t.

“It’s a coin of⁠—ahem!⁠—fabulous value,” replied the Goblin tactfully.

And the news went round the Cathedral that the shrine of the little stone Saint had been enriched by a priceless offering.