Priam Farll had been admitted through the cloisters, according to the direction printed on the ticket.

In his nervous fancy, he imagined that everybody must be gazing at him suspiciously, but the fact was that he occupied the attention of no one at all.

He was with the unprivileged, on the wrong side of the massive screen which separated the nave from the packed choir and transepts, and the unprivileged are never interested in themselves; it is the privileged who interest them.

The organ was wafting a melody of Purcell to the furthest limits of the Abbey.

Round a roped space a few ecclesiastical uniforms kept watch over the ground that would be the tomb.