He did not waste time, but carried her across the vault where the door to the church steps stood out sharp against the darkness, and bore her up into the church.

Holding her in one arm, with the other hand he dragged some long cushions from one of the pews and spread them on the floor; on these he laid her.

His heart was smitten with love and pity as he looked.

She was so helpless; so pitifully helpless! Her arms and legs were doubled up as though broken, disjointed; the white frock was smeared with patches of thick dust.
Instinctively he stooped and pulled the frock down and straightened out the arms and feet.

He knelt beside her, and felt if her heart was still beating, a great fear over him, a sick apprehension.