Pointing to Marie, who was lying on her box listening to them, he exclaimed: "You tell all our sick to go home and die--even mademoiselle, eh?
She who is full of youth and wishes to live." Marie's eyes were wide open, burning with the ardent desire which she felt to _be_, to enjoy her share of the vast world; and the Commander, who had drawn near, gazed upon her, suddenly seized with deep emotion which made his voice tremble.

"If mademoiselle gets well," he said, "I will wish her another miracle, that she be happy." Then he went off, dragging his foot and tapping the flagstones with the ferrule of his stout stick as he continued wending his way, like an angry philosopher among the suffering pilgrims.
Little by little, the platform was at last cleared.

Madame Vetu and La Grivotte were carried away, and Gerard removed M.Sabathier in a little cart, whilst Baron Suire and Berthaud already began giving orders for the green train, which would be the next one to arrive.

Of all the ailing pilgrims the only one now remaining at the station was Marie, of whom Pierre jealously took charge.

He had already dragged her into the courtyard when he noticed that M.de Guersaint had disappeared; but a moment later he perceived him conversing with the Abbe des Hermoises, whose acquaintance he had just made.