He listened to her playing until her father entered.

He found himself gazing at her when she stood up for the opening words of the service.
He felt himself strangely affected by the gentleness of her face and the slender beauty of her form.

When she knelt down he could not take his eyes off her.

There came over him an inexplicable softening, a relaxation of the tense excitement of the morning.

He thought of her kneeling there in the faded shabby church Sunday after Sunday for years and years, when he was working at hot pressure far away.