The Virgin is on the high altar till to-morrow morning, surrounded by wax tapers." He was silent for a moment, as if undecided about Something.
"Possibly," he added, "I may come down and keep you company a little.
You must be dull alone; expect me." When Gabriel was locked into the church, he caught sight of the high altar, resplendent with lights.

He made his usual trial of doors and railings; visited the Locum and the large lavoratories, where once some thieves had concealed themselves, and after he was quite certain that there was no human being in the church except himself, he seated himself in the crossways with his cloak round him, and his basket of supper.
He sat there a long while, looking through the railings at the Virgin del Sagrario.

Born in the Cathedral and brought up as a child by his mother, who knelt with him before the image, he had always admired it as the most perfect type of beauty.

Now he criticised it coldly with his artistic eye.

She was ugly and grotesque like all the very rich images; sumptuous and wealthy piety had decked her out with their treasures.