Anthony Hope,
The Vigil of Count Amadeo
(1896)
“ She seemed still alone, save for the picture, and that she saw but faintly, for the moonbeams did not shine full on it; nay, she found them full on her face as she stood just beyond the arch on the left side of the altar. Half in fright at her solitude, half in admiration of the shrine's beauty, she cast her eyes round it, and suddenly became aware of the figure of a man, who knelt before the altar, his face buried in his hands. A tremor ran through her, and she leant against the pillar of the arch; for she knew that the man was Count Amadeo, and that she was alone with him. ”
