And what an eternal symbol of the world's wretchedness was that woman, whose face one could not see, and who sobbed so distractedly without it being possible for one to wipe away her tears.

Yes, a Botticelli, unknown, uncatalogued, what a discovery! Then he paused to inquire of Pierre: "Did you know it was a Botticelli ?" "Oh no! I spoke to Don Vigilio about it one day, but he seemed to think it of no account.

And Victorine, when I spoke to her, replied that all those old things only served to harbour dust." Narcisse protested, quite stupefied: "What! they have a Botticelli here and don't know it! Ah! how well I recognise in that the Roman princes who, unless their masterpieces have been labelled, are for the most part utterly at sea among them! No doubt this one has suffered a little, but a simple cleaning would make a marvel, a famous picture of it, for which a museum would at least give--" He abruptly stopped, completing his sentence with a wave of the hand and not mentioning the figure which was on his lips.

And then, as Victorine came in followed by Giacomo to lay the little table for Pierre's supper, he turned his back upon the Botticelli and said no more about it.

The young priest's attention was aroused, however, and he could well divine what was passing in the other's mind.