She was suffering slightly from humour in the head, and
her mother had expressly bidden her to wrap herself in her /capulet/,* a
large white /capulet/ which contrasted vividly with her old black woollen
dress. When she found that her companions would not help her, she
resignedly made up her mind to take off her /sabots/, and pull down her
stockings. It was then about noon, the three strokes of the Angelus rang
out from the parish church, rising into the broad calm winter sky, which
was somewhat veiled by fine fleecy clouds. And it was then that a great
agitation arose within her, resounding in her ears with such a
tempestuous roar that she fancied a hurricane had descended from the
mountains, and was passing over her. But she looked at the trees and was
stupefied, for not a leaf was stirring. Then she thought that she had
been mistaken, and was about to pick up her /sabots/, when again the
great gust swept through her; but, this time, the disturbance in her ears
reached her eyes, she no longer saw the trees, but was dazzled by a
whiteness, a kind of bright light which seemed to her to settle itself
against the rock, in a narrow, lofty slit above the Grotto, not unlike an
ogival window of a cathedral. In her fright she fell upon her knees. What
could it be, /mon Dieu/? Sometimes, during bad weather, when her asthma
oppressed her more than usual, she spent very bad nights, incessantly
dreaming dreams which were often painful, and whose stifling effect she
retained on awaking, even when she had ceased to remember anything.
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