"Will you come with me?" she asked at last, looking up.
He did not guess what she meant to do, but he left the step on which he was standing and stood ready.
"It must be late," he said. "Should you like to try and rest? I will arrange a place for you as well as I can."
"Not yet," she answered. "If you will come with me—" she hesitated.
"Yes?"
"I will say a prayer for the dead," she said, in a low voice. "I always do, every night, since he died."
Griggs bent his head, and she came down from the step. He walked beside her, down the silent nave into the darkness. Before the Chapel of the Sacrament they both paused and bent the knee. Then she hesitated.
"I should like to go to the Pietà," she said timidly. "It seems so far. Do you mind?"
He held out his arm silently. She felt it and laid her hand upon it, and they went on. It was very dark. They knew that they were passing the pillars when they could not see the little lights from the chapels in the distance on their left. Then by the echo of their own footsteps they knew that they were near the great door, and at last they saw the single tiny flame in the silver lamp hanging above the altar they sought.
Guided by it, they went forward, and the solitary ray showed them the marble rail. They knelt down side by side.