“You sing beautifully,” she said. “I never heard singing before.”
And she sat like one stupefied, still hearing Evelyn’s singing in her brain, until one of the sisters advanced close and said, “Sister, we must sing the ‘Tantum ergo.’”
“Of course we must. I believe if you hadn’t reminded me I should have forgotten it. Gracious! I don’t know what it will sound like after singing like that. But you’ll lead them?”
Evelyn hummed the plain chant under her breath, afraid lest she should extinguish the pale voices, and surprised how expressive the antique chant was when sung by these etiolated, sexless voices. She had never known how much of her life of passion and desire had entered into her voice, and she was shocked at its impurity. Her singing sounded like silken raiment among sackcloth, an
