Nora's turn came, and I heard the sound of something slamming,
and then her voice as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, and then
another slam, and out she came. God, the hypocrisy of women! Her
eyes were lowered, her head was bowed, and her hands were joined
very low down on her stomach, and she walked up the aisle to the
side altar looking like a saint. You never saw such an exhibition of
devotion; and I remembered the devilish malice with which she had
tormented me all the way from our door, and wondered were all
religious people like that, really. It was my turn now. With the fear
of damnation in my soul I went in, and the confessional door closed
of itself behind me.