Extremely devout, she had for many months been possessed by an ardent desire to go to Lourdes.
While Marie, with dread in her heart, waited for the fichu to be moved aside, Madame de Jonquiere, having cut some bread into small pieces, inquired maternally: "Are they small enough?
Can you put them into your mouth ?" Thereupon a hoarse voice growled confused words under the black fichu: "Yes, yes, madame." And at last the veil fell and Marie shuddered with horror.
It was a case of lupus which had preyed upon the unhappy woman's nose and mouth.

Ulceration had spread, and was hourly spreading--in short, all the hideous peculiarities of this terrible disease were in full process of development, almost obliterating the traces of what once were pleasing womanly lineaments.
"Oh, look, Pierre!" Marie murmured, trembling.

The priest in his turn shuddered as he beheld Elise Rouquet cautiously slipping the tiny pieces of bread into her poor shapeless mouth.

Everyone in the carriage had turned pale at sight of the awful apparition.

And the same thought ascended from all those hope-inflated souls.