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"Au Rendezvous des Cochers Fideles," read the announcement on the flap of the awning, and truly enough it was a low resort frequented by cabbies "The meeting-place of faithful coachmen." Along the curb half a score of horses were eating from their bags, while their drivers lounged before the place, eating, drinking, and conversing excitedly in their grotesque jargon.
Dans cette consternation générale, Innocent IV voulut se montrer le père commun des fidèles. Ce tendre père se trouvoit
Susan, whose hands were very cold, struck the opening chords, and a moment later the young voices rose together, through the silent house. "Adeste, fideles, Laeti triumphantes, Venite, venite in Bethlehem...." Josephine had always sung the little solo. Susan felt it coming, and she and Betts took it together, joined on the second phrase by Anna's rich, deep contralto.
Then the harmonium in the gallery filled the church with its drawling tones, like an enlarged accordion, and the nuns standing beside it intoned the old chant, rhythmical as a march, the "Adeste Fideles," while below the novices and the faithful repeated after each stanza the sweet chorus of invitation, "Venite adoremus."
"Tum jam nulla viro juranti faemina credat; Nulla viri speret sermones esse fideles; Qui, dum aliquid cupiens animus praegestit apisci, Nil metuunt jurare, nihil promittere parcunt: Sed simul ac cupidae mentis satiata libido est, Dicta nihil metuere, nihil perjuria curant." An extraordinary turn upon the words is that in Ovid's "Epistolae Heroidum" of Sappho to Phaon:
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