She had half hoped that the wheezy old clergyman, who had preached about Calvary on the evening she had first visited the church, would be there again.

She wondered what had become of him, and if it were really a fact that she had known him when she was a child, or only her fancy.

It was strange how vividly her memory of him seemed to pervade the little church.

She had the feeling he was watching her from the shadows.

She waited for Mary in the vestibule, and gave her the shawl, making her swear on the big key of the church door that she would wear it herself and not give it away.