There is something mysterious there, some reason or other.

It's either theology or Family.
The saintly uncle in his wild parish would know nothing of any other reasons.

She wears a rosary at her waist.

Directly she had seen some real money she developed a love of it.

If you stay with me long enough, and I hope you will (I really can't sleep), you will see her going out to mass at half-past six; but there is nothing remarkable in her; just a peasant woman of thirty-four or so.