There was one man at least who passed walking alone, with a tense, greedy, hard face, and Peter all but shuddered.
The lit shops gave way to a railed space, dark by contrast, and a tall building of old blackened stone, here and there chipped white, loomed up.
Moved by an impulse, Peter paused, "Let's see if it's open, Pennell," he said.

"Do you mind?
I won't be a second." "Not a scrap, old man," said Pennell, "I'll come in too." Peter walked up to a padded leather-covered door and pushed.

It swung open.

They stepped in, into a faintly broken silence, and stood still.
Objects loomed up indistinctly--great columns, altars, pews.

Far away a light flickered and twinkled, and from the top of the aisle across the church from the door by which they had entered a radiance glowed and lost itself in the black spaces of the high roof and wide nave.