That
dreadful "Some Day" hung in the balance between success and failure.
And it was then that assistance came from a most unlikely quarter--
from Maria. There was no movement in the stolid head. The eyes merely
rolled round like small blue moons upon the expanse of the
expressionless face. But the lips parted and she spoke. She asked a
question. And her question shifted the universe back upon its ultimate
foundations. It set a problem deeper far than the mere origin of
everything. It touched the _cause_.
"Why?" she inquired blandly.
It seemed a bomb-shell had fallen among them. Maria had closed her
eyes again. Her face was calm as a cabbage, still as a mushroom in a
storm. She claimed the entire discussion somehow as her own. Yet she
had merely exercised her prerogative of being herself. Having gone
into the root of the matter with a monosyllable, she retired again
into her eternal centre. She had nothing more to offer--at the moment.
_Why?_
They had never thought of Why there should be anything. It was far
more interesting than Where. Why was a deeper question than whence. It
made them feel more important, for one thing.
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