And he kept repeating, "O my God, come to my assistance! O my God, abandon not Thy creature, who delivers himself up to Thy justice! O my God, I adore Thee: Thou wilt not leave me to perish under the buffetings of mine enemies!" Nothing answered: the shadows and the cold weighed upon him, and the noise of the old shoes continued in the distance and prevented him praying.

Nothing, indeed, save that tiresome noise was audible in the deserted church, where the matutinal sweeping was unknown before the early masses had somewhat warmed the air of the place.

After that he rose to his feet with the help of a chair, his knees cracking under him as he did so.

God was not yet there.

And why should he weep in M.
Venot's arms?
The man could do nothing.
And then mechanically he returned to Nana's house.