Why had he not thought of God before, in the hour of that terrible agony when his feeble humanity was breaking up in ruin?
Meanwhile with slow and painful steps he sought for a church.

But he had lost his bearings; the early hour had changed the face of the streets.

Soon, however, as he turned the corner of the Rue de la Chaussee-d'Antin, he noticed a tower looming vaguely in the fog at the end of the Trinite Church.

The white statues overlooking the bare garden seemed like so many chilly Venuses among the yellow foliage of a park.
Under the porch he stood and panted a little, for the ascent of the wide steps had tired him.

Then he went in.