they were in a little, spare, empty room with a wooden floor. One side of
this little room was open and railed in. Looking down, the floor of the
nave seemed a vast distance below. You seemed here to be flying in glory.
The dim haze of the candles just touched the misty depth with golden
colour. Above them the great roof seemed close and menacing. Everywhere
pillars and buttresses rose out of space. The great architect of the
building seemed here to have his true kingdom, so vast was the depth and
the height and the grandeur. The walls and the roof and the pillars that
supported it were alive with their own greatness, scornful of little men
and their little loves. The hush was filled with movement and stir and a
vast business....

The two men leaned on the rails and looked down. Far below, the white
figured altar, the brass of the Black Bishop's tomb, the glitter of Saint
Margaret's screen struck in little points of dull gold like stars upon a
grey inverted sky.

Davray turned suddenly upon his companion. "And it's men like your
father," he said, "who think that this place is theirs.... Theirs!
Presumption! But they'll get it in the neck for that. This place can bide
its time. Just when you think you're its master it turns and stamps you
out."

Falk said nothing. Davray seemed irritated by his silence. "You wait and
see," he said. "It amuses me to see your governor walking up the choir on
Sundays as though he owned the place. Owned it! Why, he doesn't realise a
stone of it! Well, he'll get it. They all have who've tried his game.
Owned it!"

"Look here," said Falk, "don't you say anything about my father--that's