One of these doors, on the pulpit side of the church, stood ajar, and stepping to it and pushing it wide open, Vanamee looked diagonally across a little patch of vegetables--beets, radishes, and lettuce--to the rear of the building that had once contained the cloisters, and through an open window saw Father Sarria diligently polishing the silver crucifix that usually stood on the high altar.

Vanamee did not call to the priest.

Putting a finger to either temple, he fixed his eyes steadily upon him for a moment as he moved about at his work.

In a few seconds he closed his eyes, but only part way.

The pupils contracted; his forehead lowered to an expression of poignant intensity.