Here she had expected she did not know
what. Always from those very early days when she had first heard
about her aunts she had had visions of a strange illuminated place
into which God, "riding on a chariot clothed in flames," would one
day come. Even after she had grown up she had still fancied that the
centre of her aunts' strange, fantastic religion must be a strange,
fantastic place. And yet now, as she looked around her, she was not,
to her own surprise, disappointed. She was even satisfied; the
"wonder" was not in the building. Well, then, it must be in
something "inside," something that she had yet to discover. The
chapel had the thrilling quality of a little plain deal box that
carries a jewel.
She examined then the people around her. Women were in a great
majority, a man scattered forlornly amongst them once and again. She
discovered at once the alert eyes of young Mr. Warlock. He was
seated in the side aisle with a thin, severe-looking woman beside
him. He stared straight in front of him, wriggling sometimes his
broad back as though he were a dog tied by a chain. Some one else
very quickly claimed Maggie's attention; this was a girl who, in the
seat behind Mr.
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