There was no diminution of her own faith in the sacredness of the place and the holiness of the consecrated object--had she been one whit less sure of that, her vengeance would have been vain and her whole scheme meaningless.
She came back out of the darkness and set the wooden steps in their place before the altar at Beatrice's feet.

Then, as though to save herself from all participation in the guilt of the sacrilege which was to follow, she withdrew outside the Communion rail, and closed the gate behind her.
Beatrice, obedient to her smallest command, and powerless to move or act without her suggestion, stood still as she had been placed, with her back to the church and her face to the altar.

Above her head the richly wrought door of the tabernacle caught what little light there was and reflected it from its own uneven surface.
Unorna paused a moment, looked at the shadowy figure, and then glanced behind her into the body of the church, not out of any ghostly fear, but to assure herself that she was alone with her victim.

She saw that all was quite ready, and then she calmly knelt down just upon one side of the gate and rested her folded hands upon the marble railing.

A moment of intense stillness followed.