Her immovably placid features, her mournful look, betokened the renunciation of the flesh, and the abdication of all independence of thought.
Her heavy grey costume hung about her in large ungraceful folds.

Every time she moved, her long chaplet of beads of coloured box-wood, loaded with crosses and copper medals, shook and trailed along the floor with a noise like a jingling of chains.
Dr.Herve was seated on a chair opposite the bed, watching, apparently with close attention, the nun's preparations.

He jumped up as Noel entered.
"At last you are here," he said, giving his friend a strong grasp of the hand.
"I was detained at the Palais," said the advocate, as if he felt the necessity of explaining his absence; "and I have been, as you may well imagine, dreadfully anxious." He leant towards the doctor's ear, and in a trembling voice asked: "Well, is she at all better ?" The doctor shook his head with an air of deep discouragement.
"She is much worse," he replied: "since morning bad symptoms have succeeded each other with frightful rapidity." He checked himself.

The advocate had seized his arm and was pressing it with all his might.

Madame Gerdy stirred a little, and a feeble groan escaped her.
"She heard you," murmured Noel.
"I wish it were so," said the doctor; "It would be most encouraging.
But I fear you are mistaken.