everything waited now ; the goddess , and the vast dark void of the temple behind its huge oak doors , the doors that glistened from the sill up to the height of a man 's head with bronze nail heads , hammered roughly into the wood , one every year since the temple was first built ; before that , in fact , since the door of the oldest , tiny shrine had been set as a panel in the doors of the new temple , and so on , through rebuilding after rebuilding , till the wood of the original door was jewel-hard and black with age .