The primary difficulty with miracles, Arthur Klein often explained to junior inspectors, was never theological. It was fiscal.
When the municipal fountain in the Place des Orfèvres ran with pale Rhine wine for forty-five minutes on an unseasonably warm Thursday afternoon in October, the Archbishop declared it a sign of divine favor. The Ministry of Sanitation declared it an unapproved organic contaminant. But the Department of Revenue pointed out that ninety-eight liters of alcohol had been consumed without excise stamps, representing a net loss to the public treasury of four hundred and twelve guilders.
Klein arrived with his brass calipers and three reams of manifold carbon paper.