"One must possess great faith, no doubt," said Marie, thinking aloud.
"One must have a pure unspotted soul." And, addressing herself to M. de
Guersaint, she added: "Father, I feel that I should get well if I were
ten years old, if I had the unspotted soul of a little girl."
"But you are ten years old, my darling! Is it not so, Pierre? A little
girl of ten years old could not have a more spotless soul."
Possessed of a mind prone to chimeras, M. de Guersaint was fond of
hearing tales of miracles. As for the young priest, profoundly affected
by the ardent purity which the young girl evinced, he no longer sought to
discuss the question, but let her surrender herself to the consoling
illusions which Sophie's tale had wafted through the carriage.
The temperature had become yet more oppressive since their departure from
Poitiers, a storm was rising in the coppery sky, and it seemed as though
the train were rushing through a furnace. The villages passed, mournful
and solitary under the burning sun. At Couhe-Verac they had again said
their chaplets, and sung another canticle. At present, however, there was
some slight abatement of the religious exercises. Sister Hyacinthe, who
had not yet been able to lunch, ventured to eat a roll and some fruit in
all haste, whilst still ministering to the strange man whose faint,
painful breathing seemed to have become more regular. And it was only on
passing Ruffec at three o'clock that they said the vespers of the Blessed
Virgin.
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