All at once she had grown self-conscious.

She had not known herself, just how much she cared for it until it was gone beyond recall.
Aside from the sentiment for which she cherished it she had a superstitious feeling that her fate was bound up with it in such a way that the gods would cease to be propitious if she lost the talisman that influenced them.
No feasible plan occurred to her, however.

The choir passed out in slow recessional.

The congregation as slowly followed.

Mary loitered as long as possible, even going back for her handkerchief, which she had purposely dropped in the pew to give her an excuse to return.