Perhaps a presentiment--But of what?
_Ma! Chi sa ?_ Who knows?
A presentiment of some future bond between this man and herself.

She had followed him, had entered the church that she might not lose the opportunity of speaking to him, and now she was almost afraid of him.

And then to talk to him of Jeanne! Had Jeanne understood him?
How had Jeanne, loving him, been able to resist the current of higher thought which was in him, which perhaps, at that time, was latent, but which a Jeanne should have felt?
What had she loved?
The lower man?
If she, Noemi, spoke with him, she would speak not only of Jeanne, but of religion also.

She would ask him what his own religion really was.

And then what if he should answer something foolish, something commonplace?
For this reason she was almost afraid to speak to him.
A dash of rain splashed through a broken window upon the pavement.
It seemed to Noemi she could never forget that hour, that great empty church, that dark sky, that dash of rain like falling tears, that world's outcast on the steps of the high altar, absorbed in what sublime thoughts God alone knew, and the sacristan, his enemy, who had gone to sleep on the steps of another altar, with the easy familiarity of a colleague of the Almighty.