She was all alone in that solitude, and did not stir; however, her eyes were wide open.
He drew near and recognised Madame Vincent.

She addressed him in a deep, broken voice: "Rose has suffered so dreadfully to-day! Since daybreak she has not ceased moaning.

And so, as she fell asleep a couple of hours ago, I haven't dared to stir for fear lest she should awake and suffer again." Thus the poor woman remained motionless, martyr-mother that she was, having for long months held her daughter in her arms in this fashion, in the stubborn hope of curing her.

In her arms, too, she had brought her to Lourdes; in her arms she had carried her to the Grotto; in her arms she had rocked her to sleep, having neither a room of her own, nor even a hospital bed at her disposal.
"Isn't the poor little thing any better ?" asked Pierre, whose heart ached at the sight.
"No, Monsieur l'Abbe; no, I think not." "But you are very badly off here on this bench.

You should have made an application to the pilgrimage managers instead of remaining like this, in the street, as it were.