Finally, the priest picked up his chalice and bowl of wafers, lowered his head and exited the maneaba*, striding to the old stone church and disappearing into the nave and whatever dark lair he had constructed for himself.
J. Maarten Troost. Headhunters on My Doorstep, p.245 (2013)
*a Kiribati meeting house
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A long ray of the sun fell across the nave and seemed to darken the lower sides and the corners.
Gustave Flaubert. Madame Bovary.
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like a ray of sunlight straying down the nave, but a ray of sunlight which, at the moment when I received its caress, appeared conscious of where it fell.
Marcel Proust. In Search of Lost Time [volume 1] Swann’s Way
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We eased along the nave between the choir stalls, moving past the alter into the narrow ambulatory behind the apse, where we paused at the arched entrance to a tiny chapel.