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Froo Just across the street to the great ilded church that wed, christened, chastised, guided and buried the highest officials and the lowest beggars

While Québec never lacked for churches they were the satellites and Notre-Daates and up the steps he stopped at the board listing the Sunday services One had just ended and the next wasn’t until 6 PM Opening the heavy doors he walked in and felt the warmth and smelled the years and years of sacred ritual Of candles and incense, and heard the echoing of feet on the slate floors

The church was diht into the vast space But at the far end, past near elow The entire altar appeared dipped in gold It shone and beckoned, angels pranced, stern saints stood and stared, a model of St Peter’s in Rome, like a spoiled child’s doll house sat in the very center

It was both glorious and vaguely repulsive Gamache crossed himself, a habit unbroken and sat quietly for a few moments

"My fa voice

"Having built up a tolerance for ash and smoke, I suppose," said Gaured anyone who could tolerate ood ainst it"

"I never seriously considered it," Agent Morin spoke in Gamache’s ear "I’d fallen in love with Suzanne when she was six and I was seven I figured that was God’s plan"

"You’ve known each other that long?"

"All my life, it seems Weine hier than his twenty-five years He had a curious knack for looking like an i Morin tried to do, but he succeeded He often had his h he was about to drool It could be either disconcerting or disarrown on Ga had nothing to do with his brain or his heart

"I like to just sit in our village church after everyone’s left So"

"Do you talk to your priest?"

"Father Michel? So next June I see the decorations and picture all my friends and family there Some of the people I ith" He hesitated "Would you come?"

"If I’m asked, I’d definitely be there"

"Really?"

"Absolutely"