Biddy did not answer, and the priest could see that it would give
her no pleasure whatever to subscribe to mending the walls of his
church, and it annoyed him to see her sitting in his own chair
stretching out her hands to take the money back. He could see that
her wish to benefit the church was merely a pretext for the
glorification of herself, and the priest began to argue with the
old woman. But he might have spared himself the trouble of
explaining that it was necessary to have a new church before you
could have a window. She understood well enough it was useless to
put a window up in a church that was going to fall down. But her
idea still was St. Joseph in a red cloak and the Virgin in blue
with a crown of gold on her head, and forgetful of everything
else, she asked him whether her window in the new church should be
put over the high altar, or if it should be a window lighting a
side altar.

"But, my good woman, ten pounds will not pay for a window. You
couldn't get anything to speak of in the way of a window for less
than fifty pounds."

He had expected to astonish Biddy, but she did not seem
astonished. She said that although fifty pounds was a great deal
of money she would not mind spending all that money if she were to
have her window all to herself. She had thought at first of only
putting in part of the window, a round piece at the top of the
window, and she had thought that that could be bought for ten
pounds. The priest could see that she had been thinking a good
deal of this window, and she seemed to know more about it than he
expected. "It is extraordinary," he said to himself, "how a desire
of immortality persecutes these second-class souls. A desire of