And at her feet the other child, so miserable, white with snow--she also grew so stiff and pale that it seemed as if she were turning to stone, and could scarcely be distinguished from the great images above her.
At last, in one of the long line of houses in which all seemed to be sleeping, the noise from the drawing up of a blind made her raise her eyes.

It was at her right hand, in the second story of a house at the side of the Cathedral.

A very handsome woman, a brunette about forty years of age, with a placid expression of serenity, was just looking out from there, and in spite of the terrible frost she kept her uncovered arm in the air for a moment, having seen the child move.

Her calm face grew sad with pity and astonishment.

Then, shivering, she hastily closed the window.