Then
the lights went up with a flare and Thurston, followed by Mr.
Warlock, entered. It was at that moment that Maggie had a
revelation. The faces around her seemed to be suddenly gathered in
front of her, and it was with a start of surprise that she suddenly
realised: "Oh, but they don't believe in this any more than I do!"
The faces around her were agitated, with odd humble beseeching
looks, as though they were helpless utterly and were hoping that
some one would suddenly come and lead them somewhere that they might
be comfortable again and at ease.
There was not to-night, as there had been on other occasions (and
especially during that service that Mr. Crashaw had conducted), any
sign of religious and mystical excitement. The people seemed huddled
together in the cold and draughty place against their will, and the
very fact that the Chapel was only half full chilled the blood. No
drama of exultation here, no band of God's servants gloriously
preparing to meet Him, only the frightened open-mouthed gaze of a
little gathering of servant girls and old maids. That was Maggie's
first impression; then, when the service began, when the first hymn
had been sung and Thurston had stumbled into his extempore prayer.
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