Had she not seen them herself the day of their visit to the ruins, as they floated, towards evening, above the towers in the rosy pallor of the dusk?
Ah! how willingly she would die as they did, although but sixteen years of age, in the supreme happiness of the realisation of her dream! A loud noise which reverberated under the arches made her tremble.

It was the priest who came out from the confessional of Saint Joseph and shut the door after him.

She was surprised at no longer seeing the penitent, who had already gone.

And when in his turn the clergyman went out by way of the sacristy, she realised that she was absolutely alone in the vast solitude of the Cathedral.

At the loud sound of the door of the confessional, as it creaked on its hinges, she thought that Monseigneur was coming.