AC dBooks

But at last we stopped at a little door of a big house which seemed to
stand, with a church beside it, on a high shelf overlooking the city,
for I could see many domes like that of St. Peter lying below us.
A grill in the little door was first opened and then a lady in a black
habit, with a black band round her forehead and white bands down each
side of her face, opened the door itself, and asked us to step in, and
when we had done so, she took us down a long passage into a warm room,
where another lady, dressed in the same way, only a little grander, sat
in a big red arm-chair.
Father Dan, who was still wearing his knitted muffler, bowed very low to
this lady, calling her the Reverend Mother Magdalene, and she answered
him in English but with a funny sound which I afterwards knew to be a
foreign accent.
I remember that I thought she was very beautiful, nearly as beautiful as
my mother, and when Father Dan told me to kiss her hand I did so, and
then she put me to sit in a chair and looked at me.


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