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The vacant eyes of old, old children gazed at the violet cross outlined in the air by the Prelate's gloved hand. Chartres, that city of the dead, had changed to a vast nursery; in the extravagance of its joy the town was in its second childhood. But as soon as the Bishop was past the scene changed. Durtal was startled, and he tittered.
"The only observation we dare make in these matters is that women, as a rule, are more passive and less reserved, while men resist more violently the wishes of Heaven." "That makes me think," said Durtal, "that even in religion there are souls which seem to have mistaken their sex.
You have read, sir, her treatises on Discretion and Prayer?" "No. I have read Saint Catherine of Genoa, but the books of Saint Catherine of Siena have never fallen into my hands." "And what do you think of this collection?" Durtal looked at the title, and made a face. "I see that Suso hardly delights you." "I should tell a lie if I assured you that the dissertations of this Dominican pleased me.
"That is not surprising," said the astrologer, spreading some firm candied orange jelly on a piece of bread, "the first law to observe in magism and Spiritism is to send away the unbelievers, because very often their fluid is antagonistic to that of the clairvoyant or the medium." "Then how can there be any assurance of the reality of the phenomena?" thought Durtal. Carhaix rose.
Carhaix, your cooking tempts us to the sin of gluttony If you keep on you will make perfect pigs of us." "Oh, you are joking. I wonder what is keeping Louis." "Somebody is coming upstairs," said Durtal, hearing the creaking of shoes in the tower. "No, it isn't his step," and she went and opened the door. "It's Monsieur Gévingey."
Well, then, set those prayers aside, and restrict yourself to following, very regularly, the prayers of the services in the convent-chapel. You are less familiar with them, and merely to follow them you will be obliged to read them with care. Thus you will be less likely to have a divided mind." "No doubt," replied Durtal.
It is consequently impossible to doubt that the Serpent will conquer. This amputated dilemma is then out of order." "Be it so, but the other alternative remains; what do you make of His goodness?" "His goodness?" And Durtal had need to repeat again the arguments drawn from free will, and the promised coming of the Saviour; and he was obliged to admit that these answers were weak.
"This priest is far more interesting than his brethren," said Durtal to himself as they parted; and, as the abbé invited his visits, he had often called on him. He had always been cordially welcomed. On several occasions he had warily sounded the old man on several questions. He had answered evasively in regard to other priests.
She shrugged her shoulders; and there was such peace in her face, such a glow of flame lurked behind the liquid blackness of her eyes, that Durtal stood looking at her, admiring the honesty and purity of a soul which could thus rise to the threshold of her eyes and come forth in her look. "How happy you are!" he exclaimed. A cloud dimmed her eyes, and she looked down.
There she turned around, and Durtal, who had followed, found himself face to face with her. "Won't you please sit down?" He advanced an armchair and hastened to push back, with his foot, the edge of the carpet turned up by the cat. He asked her to excuse the disorder. She made a vague gesture and remained standing. In a calm but very low voice she said, "It is I who wrote you those mad letters.
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