At the far end of the ward, the rattle of the poor creature who could not be seen still resounded.

And nothing could have been more mournful than the appearance of that little _cortege_ in the semi-darkness, amidst which the yellow flames of the tapers gleamed like stars.
But Marie's face, to which an expression of ecstasy had returned, was like a divine apparition.

Although La Grivotte was hungering for the bread of life, they had refused her the sacrament on this occasion, as it was to be administered to her in the morning at the Rosary; Madame Vetu, however, had received the Host on her black tongue in a hiccough.

And now Marie was lying there under the pale light of the tapers, looking so beautiful amidst her fair hair, with her eyes dilated and her features transfigured by faith, that everyone admired her.

She received the sacrament with rapture; Heaven visibly descended into her poor, youthful frame, reduced to such physical wretchedness.