He is as sincere as they.

He has an exquisite delicacy of sentiment and a terrible violence of mind.

If he shocks one by many of his acts, the reason is that he is weaker, less supported, or perhaps less closely observed.

And then there are unworthy saints, just as there are bad angels: Choulette is a worldly saint, that is all.

But his poems are true poems, and much finer than those written by the bishops of the seventeenth century." She interrupted him: "While I think of it, I wish to congratulate you on your friend Dechartre.