All Lourdes knew him on account of the habit, the mania he had, at pilgrimage time, of coming to witness the arrival of the trains, dragging his foot along and leaning upon his stick, whilst expressing his astonishment and reproaching the ailing ones for their intense desire to be made whole and sound again.
This was the third year that he had seen M.Sabathier arrive, and all his anger fell upon him.

"What! you have come back _again_!" he exclaimed.
"Well, you _must_ be desirous of living this hateful life! But _sacrebleu_! go and die quietly in your bed at home.

Isn't that the best thing that can happen to anyone ?" M.Sabathier evinced no anger, but laughed, exhausted though he was by the handling to which he had been subjected during his removal from the carriage.

"No, no," said he, "I prefer to be cured." "To be cured, to be cured! That's what they all ask for.

They travel hundreds of leagues and arrive in fragments, howling with pain, and all this to be cured--to go through every worry and every suffering again.
Come, monsieur, you would be nicely caught if, at your age and with your dilapidated old body, your Blessed Virgin should be pleased to restore the use of your legs to you.