noon
He was with the unprivileged , on the wrong side of the massive screen which separated the nave from the packed choir and transepts , and the unprivileged are never interested in themselves ; it is the privileged who interest them . The organ was wafting a melody of Purcell to the furthest limits of the Abbey . Round a roped space a few ecclesiastical uniforms kept watch over the ground that would be the tomb . The sunlight of noon beat and quivered in long lances through crimson and blue windows . Then the functionaries began to form an aisle among the spectators , and emotion grew tenser . The organ was silent for a moment , and when it recommenced its song the song was the supreme expression of human grief , the dirge of Chopin , wrapping the whole cathedral in heavy folds of sorrow . And as that appeal expired in the pulsating air , the fresh voices of little boys , sweeter even than grief , rose in the distance .