"Science indeed!" he exclaimed.

"Do I know anything?
Can I accomplish anything?
You asked me just now what malady it was that killed my poor Marguerite.
But I do not know! I, whom people think so learned, so well armed against death, I understood nothing of it, and I could do nothing--not even prolong my daughter's life for a single hour! And my wife, whom I found in bed already cold, when on the previous evening she had lain down in much better health and quite gay--was I even capable of foreseeing what ought to have been done in her case?
No, no! for me at all events, science has become bankrupt.

I wish to know nothing; I am but a fool and a poor old man!" He spoke like this in a furious revolt against all his past life of pride and happiness.

Then, having become calm again, he added: "And now I only feel a frightful remorse.

Yes, a remorse which haunts me, which ever brings me here, prowling around the people who are praying.