de Guersaint gaily declared that he had slept
delightfully, in spite of the hardness of the seat. Madame de Jonquiere
also congratulated herself on the good rest which she had had, and of
which she had been in so much need; though, at the same time, she was
somewhat annoyed at having left Sister Hyacinthe all alone to watch over
La Grivotte, who was now shivering with intense fever, again attacked by
her horrible cough. Meanwhile the other female pilgrims were tidying
themselves. The ten women at the far end were fastening their /fichus/
and tying their cap strings, with a kind of modest nervousness displayed
on their mournfully ugly faces. And Elise Rouquet, all attention, with
her face close to her pocket glass, did not cease examining her nose,
mouth, and cheeks, admiring herself with the thought that she was really
and truly becoming nice-looking.
And it was then that Pierre and Marie again experienced a feeling of deep
compassion on glancing at Madame Vincent, whom nothing had been able to
rouse from a state of torpor, neither the tumultuous stoppage at
Poitiers, nor the noise of voices which had continued ever since they had
started off again. Prostrate on the seat, she had not opened her eyes,
but still and ever slumbered, tortured by atrocious dreams. And, with big
tears still streaming from her closed eyes, she had caught hold of the
pillow which had been forced upon her, and was closely pressing it to her
breast in some nightmare born of her suffering.
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