The interior was as ugly as the outside.

The walls were of the coldest grey stone, broken here and there by the lighter grey of a window.

Across the roof were rafters built of that bright shining wood that belongs intimately to colonial life, sheep-shearing, apples of an immense size and brushwood.

Two lamps of black iron hung from these rafters.

At the farther end of the chapel was a rail of this same bright wood, and behind the rail a desk and a chair.