One of the stained glass windows was , I think, of my old friend St. Roch.

All the accoutrements were present, the staff, the pilgrams scallop shell and the dog but no piece of proffered bread and not a buboe in sight.

All of the windows in this cathedral had a sort of airbrushed Italian sentimentality about them, which reminded me somewhat of the windows of the Irish Churches of my youth.
Maybe it was this influence which had made them decide to clean up St. Roch’s act.