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Glyn, Elinor, 1864-1943

"His Hour"

So the ladies all trouped off to rest.
"Leave your door open into my room, Tamara dear, if you do not mind,"
her godmother said. "I am always nervous in hotels--"
"I trust everything is going quietly," she added to herself, "but one
never can tell."
Next day the whole sky was leaden with unfallen snow. Nothing more
strange and gloomy and barbaric than Moscow looked could have been
imagined, Tamara thought. It brought out the gilt domes and the unusual
colors of things in a lurid way.
Their first visit was to the Church of the Assumption, where the
emperors are crowned. Its great beauty and rich colors pleased the
eye. The totally different arrangement of things from any other sort of
church--the shape and the absence of chairs or seats--the hidden altar
behind the doors of the sanctuary--the numerous pictures and frescoed
walls--all gave it a mysterious, wonderful charm, and here again the
two English were struck by the people's simple faith.
"We would catch every sort of disease kissing those Ikons after filthy
ulcerated beggars," Stephen Strong said to Tamara. "But the belief that
only good can come to them brings only good. The study of these people
makes one less materialistic and full of common sense. One puts more
credence in things occult."
A service was just beginning, it was some high saint's day, and the
beautiful singing, the boys' angel voices and the deep bass of the
priests, unaccompanied by any instruments or organ, impressed Tamara
far more in this old temple than the services had done in any of the
St.


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