It made it so much more of a personal offering than if she had saved it from her allowance.

She slipped her purse out of her jacket pocket as the prelude of the offertory filled the aisles and rose to the arches of the vaulted roof.
The man who carried the plate was slowly making his way towards the pew in which she sat, and with her gaze fixed on him, she began fumbling with the clasp of her purse, under cover of her muff.

She had never seen such a rubicund portly gentleman, with two double chins and expansive bald spot on his crown.

She held the coin between her fingers awaiting his slow approach.

Just as he reached the end of their pew where Phil was sitting, she sneezed.