DotvvmChildEventCallback

Changes

Details

diff --git a/src/Web/Views/Default.dothtml b/src/Web/Views/Default.dothtml
index 96a8848..af74b06 100644
--- a/src/Web/Views/Default.dothtml
+++ b/src/Web/Views/Default.dothtml
@@ -47,71 +47,89 @@
             <div class="col-md-12">
                 <div IncludeInPage="{value: Wizard.Step == 1}">
                     <div DataContext="{value: First}">
-                        <blockquote class="blockquote">
-                            <p class="mb-0">
-                                It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of
-                                wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was
-                                the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of
-                                Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had
-                                everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct
-                                to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period
-                                was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities
-                                insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative
-                                degree of comparison only.
-                            </p>
-                            <footer class="blockquote-footer">Charles Dickens: <cite title="Source Title">A Tale of Two Cities</cite></footer>
-                        </blockquote>
+                        <bs:Card>
+                            <FooterTemplate>
+                                <footer class="blockquote-footer">Charles Dickens: <cite title="Source Title">A Tale of Two Cities</cite></footer>
+                            </FooterTemplate>
+                            <bs:CardBody>
+                                <blockquote class="blockquote">
+                                    <p class="mb-0">
+                                        It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of
+                                        wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was
+                                        the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of
+                                        Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had
+                                        everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct
+                                        to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period
+                                        was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities
+                                        insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative
+                                        degree of comparison only.
+                                    </p>
+                                </blockquote>
+                            </bs:CardBody>
+                        </bs:Card>
                     </div>
                 </div>
                 <div IncludeInPage="{value: Wizard.Step == 2}">
                     <div DataContext="{value: Second}">
-                        <blockquote class="blockquote">
-                            <p class="mb-0">
-                                Call me Ishmael. Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or
-                                no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought
-                                I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way
-                                I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I
-                                find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly
-                                November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before
-                                coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and
-                                especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a
-                                strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street,
-                                and methodically knocking people’s hats off—then, I account it high time to get
-                                to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a
-                                philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the
-                                ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men
-                                in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings
-                                towards the ocean with me.
-                            </p>
-                            <footer class="blockquote-footer">Herman Melville: <cite title="Source Title">Moby Dick</cite></footer>
-                        </blockquote>
+                        <bs:Card>
+                            <FooterTemplate>
+                                <footer class="blockquote-footer">Herman Melville: <cite title="Source Title">Moby Dick</cite></footer>
+                            </FooterTemplate>
+                            <bs:CardBody>
+                                <blockquote class="blockquote">
+                                    <p class="mb-0">
+                                        Call me Ishmael. Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or
+                                        no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought
+                                        I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way
+                                        I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I
+                                        find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly
+                                        November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before
+                                        coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and
+                                        especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a
+                                        strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street,
+                                        and methodically knocking people’s hats off—then, I account it high time to get
+                                        to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a
+                                        philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the
+                                        ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men
+                                        in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings
+                                        towards the ocean with me.
+                                    </p>
+                                </blockquote>
+                            </bs:CardBody>
+                        </bs:Card>                        
                     </div>
                 </div>
                 <div IncludeInPage="{value: Wizard.Step == 3}">
                     <div DataContext="{value: Third}">
-                        <blockquote class="blockquote">
-                            <p class="mb-0">
-                                No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that
-                                this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than
-                                man’s and yet as mortal as his own; that as men busied themselves about their
-                                various concerns they were scrutinised and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly
-                                as a man with a microscope might scrutinise the transient creatures that swarm
-                                and multiply in a drop of water. With infinite complacency men went to and fro
-                                over this globe about their little affairs, serene in their assurance of their
-                                empire over matter. It is possible that the infusoria under the microscope do
-                                the same. No one gave a thought to the older worlds of space as sources of
-                                human danger, or thought of them only to dismiss the idea of life upon them as
-                                impossible or improbable. It is curious to recall some of the mental habits of
-                                those departed days. At most terrestrial men fancied there might be other men
-                                upon Mars, perhaps inferior to themselves and ready to welcome a missionary
-                                enterprise. Yet across the gulf of space, minds that are to our minds as ours
-                                are to those of the beasts that perish, intellects vast and cool and
-                                unsympathetic, regarded this earth with envious eyes, and slowly and surely
-                                drew their plans against us. And early in the twentieth century came the great
-                                disillusionment.
-                            </p>
-                            <footer class="blockquote-footer">H.G. Wells: <cite title="Source Title">The War of the Worlds</cite></footer>
-                        </blockquote>
+                        <bs:Card>
+                            <FooterTemplate>
+                                <footer class="blockquote-footer">H.G. Wells: <cite title="Source Title">The War of the Worlds</cite></footer>
+                            </FooterTemplate>
+                            <bs:CardBody>
+                                <blockquote class="blockquote">
+                                    <p class="mb-0">
+                                        No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that
+                                        this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than
+                                        man’s and yet as mortal as his own; that as men busied themselves about their
+                                        various concerns they were scrutinised and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly
+                                        as a man with a microscope might scrutinise the transient creatures that swarm
+                                        and multiply in a drop of water. With infinite complacency men went to and fro
+                                        over this globe about their little affairs, serene in their assurance of their
+                                        empire over matter. It is possible that the infusoria under the microscope do
+                                        the same. No one gave a thought to the older worlds of space as sources of
+                                        human danger, or thought of them only to dismiss the idea of life upon them as
+                                        impossible or improbable. It is curious to recall some of the mental habits of
+                                        those departed days. At most terrestrial men fancied there might be other men
+                                        upon Mars, perhaps inferior to themselves and ready to welcome a missionary
+                                        enterprise. Yet across the gulf of space, minds that are to our minds as ours
+                                        are to those of the beasts that perish, intellects vast and cool and
+                                        unsympathetic, regarded this earth with envious eyes, and slowly and surely
+                                        drew their plans against us. And early in the twentieth century came the great
+                                        disillusionment.
+                                    </p>
+                                </blockquote>
+                            </bs:CardBody>
+                        </bs:Card>
                     </div>
                 </div>
             </div>