M.Sabathier had listened to all the explanations with a beatific air; Madame Vetu, La Grivotte, and even Brother Isidore opened their eyes, and evinced signs of interest; whilst the face of Elise Rouquet had assumed an extraordinary expression, transfigured by faith, almost beatified.

If a sore had thus disappeared, might not her own sore close and disappear, her face retaining no trace of it save a slight scar, and again becoming such a face as other people had?
Sophie, who was still standing, had to hold on to one of the iron rails, and place her foot on the partition, now on the right, now on the left.

And she did not weary of it all, but felt exceedingly happy and proud at the many exclamations which were raised, the quivering admiration and religious respect which were bestowed on that little piece of her person, that little foot which had now, so to say, become sacred.
"One must possess great faith, no doubt," said Marie, thinking aloud.
"One must have a pure unspotted soul." And, addressing herself to M.de Guersaint, she added: "Father, I feel that I should get well if I were ten years old, if I had the unspotted soul of a little girl." "But you are ten years old, my darling! Is it not so, Pierre?
A little girl of ten years old could not have a more spotless soul." Possessed of a mind prone to chimeras, M.de Guersaint was fond of hearing tales of miracles.

As for the young priest, profoundly affected by the ardent purity which the young girl evinced, he no longer sought to discuss the question, but let her surrender herself to the consoling illusions which Sophie's tale had wafted through the carriage.
The temperature had become yet more oppressive since their departure from Poitiers, a storm was rising in the coppery sky, and it seemed as though the train were rushing through a furnace.

The villages passed, mournful and solitary under the burning sun.