Let us pray that she may learn to give her love and her sorrow to God," the husband answered.
Hand in hand they entered their bedroom, which was divided in two by a heavy curtain.

They went to the window and looked up at the sky, praying silently.

A breath of the north wind soughed like a lament through the oak overhanging the tiny chapel of Santa Maria della Febbre.
"Poor creature!" said Maria.

It seemed to her and to her husband that their affection for one another was more tender than ever to-night, but nevertheless--though neither said so--both felt that there was something deterring them from the kiss of love.
Jeanne, as soon as Noemi had closed the door of their room behind them, fell upon her neck in a paroxysm of uncontrollable sobbing.

Poor Noemi had concluded, from the effect produced on her friend when the monk hastened past her, that he was Maironi, and she was now overcome with pity.