He stooped right down to the ground and kissed the arch of her instep; he had become a devotee worshipping at the shrine of his saint, who had performed a great and a wonderful miracle.
Armand the idealist had found his ideal in a woman.

That was the great miracle which the woman herself had performed for him.

He found in her all that he had admired most, all that he had admired in the leader who hitherto had been the only personification of his ideal.

But Jeanne possessed all those qualities which had roused his enthusiasm in the noble hero whom he revered.

Her pluck, her ingenuity, her calm devotion which had averted the threatened danger from him! What had he done that she should have risked her own sweet life for his sake?
But Jeanne did not know.