After Soapy repeatedly fails to get himself arrested, he finds himself outside the gates of a church. The narrator then uses imagery to help readers understand the significance of this moment:
But on an unusually quiet corner Soapy came to a standstill. Here was an old church, quaint and rambling and gabled. Through one violet-stained window a soft light glowed, where, no doubt, the organist loitered over the keys, making sure of his mastery of the coming Sabbath anthem. For there drifted out to Soapy’s ears sweet music that caught and held him transfixed against the convolutions of the iron fence.
The imagery here engages several different senses at once—readers can picture the “soft light glow[ing]” through the violet-stained window of the old church, as well as the organist’s hands “loiter[ing] over the keys,” while also hearing the “sweet music” of the organ and feeling their bodies against “the convolutions” (or metals twists) of the iron fence.
All of this imagery combines to capture a scene of great significance. In fact, this is the first scene in which Soapy has slowed down in the whole story. He has been so determined to get himself arrested that he hasn’t paused or opened up his senses. The evocative imagery here helps prepare readers for Soapy’s epiphany in the subsequent paragraphs, as he realizes he wants to turn his life around and pull himself out of a life of crime. (Of course, he ultimately realizes he cannot do this, as he ends up being arrested and imprisoned for the mere act of loitering outside the church.)
