At first he thought him alone.
"Oh, Verger," Davray said, as though he were speaking to a beggar who had
asked of him alms. "I want to go up into King Harry. You have the key, I
think."
"Well, you can't, sir," said Lawrence, with considerable satisfaction.
"'Tis after hours." Then he saw Falk.
"Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr. Brandon, sir. I didn't realise. Do you want to
go up the Tower, sir?"
"We may as well," said Falk.
"Of course for you, sir, it's different. Strangers have to keep certain
hours. This way, sir."
They followed the pompous old man across the nave, up the side aisle, past
"tombs and monuments and gilded knights," until they came to the King
Harry Chapel. This was to the right of the choir, and before the screen
that railed it off from the rest of the church there was a notice saying
that this Chapel had been put aside for private prayer and it was hoped
that no one would talk or make any noise, were some one meditating or
praying there. The little place was infinitely quiet, with a special air
of peace and beauty as though all the prayers and meditations that had
been offered there had deeply sanctified it; Lawrence pushed open the door
of the screen and they crossed the flagged floor.
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