It seemed to her, as she continued climbing, that she was
growing stronger and stronger, that her legs, so long lifeless, became
firmer at each step. The little car which she victoriously dragged behind
her was like the earthly tenement of her illness, the /inferno/ whence
the Blessed Virgin had extricated her, and although its handle was making
her hands sore, she nevertheless wished to pull it up yonder with her, in
order that she might cast it at last at the feet of the Almighty. No
obstacle could stay her course, she laughed through the big tears which
were falling on her cheeks, her bosom was swelling, her demeanour
becoming warlike. One of her slippers had become unfastened, and the
strip of lace had fallen from her head to her shoulders. Nevertheless,
with her lovely fair hair crowning her like a helmet and her face beaming
brightly, she still marched on and on with such an awakening of will and
strength that, behind her, you could hear her car leap and rattle over
the rough slope of the flagstones, as though it had been a mere toy.
Near Marie was Pierre, still leaning on the arm of Father Massias, who
had not relinquished his hold. Lost amidst the far-spreading emotion, the
young priest was unable to reflect. Moreover his companion's sonorous
voice quite deafened him.
"/Deposuit potentes de sede et exaltavit humiles/." "He hath put down the
mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the humble."
On Pierre's other side, the right, Berthaud, who no longer had any cause
for anxiety, was now also following the canopy.
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