We managed to arrive at San Lorenzo fuori le Mura at the same moment as a funeral... a fat priest in his vestments came out of the first coach like an overgrown dahlia, and roared his way through the service with a speed only to be matched by the speed of the organist, who kept on tripping him over with the first chord of the responses, like a rugby tackle.

Letters: Sylvia Townsend Warner (1982)