Brett looked at the yellow wall of the chapel.
'Yes. Where the show started on Sunday.'
'Let's go in. Do you mind? I'd rather like to pray a little for him or something.'
We went through the heavy leather door that moved very lightly. It was dark inside. Many people were praying. You saw them in your eyes adjusted themselves to the half-light. We knelt at one of the long wooden benches. After a little while I felt Brett stiffen beside me, and saw she was looking straight ahead.
'Come on,' she whispered throatily. 'Let's get out of here. Makes me damned nervous.' " (Hemingway 211)
That may have been one of the most uncomfortable situations I have ever put myself in! It was just so dark and eerie- so ancient looking. Not only that, but there was just a presence of negativity, I guess. I mean, all I wanted to do was help my Romero somehow. Honestly, it felt like a cloud of shame and guilt was following me around. It was like God himself was staring down through me! Like as if I'm doing something wrong.. Well, I've always been like this. I can't help attracting men! I give them a little taste of Lady Brett Ashley, too! Therefore, I'm doing the right thing-- caring for them. What's so wrong about that? Nothing, right? ... But something in me says there is.
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