Her face, too, was inexpressibly virginal in its expression of innocence and of melancholy suffering.

She was like a figure of Resignation.
One day the girl's face was transfigured.

In the midst of all the debauches mapped out by her mother, it seemed to her as if God had left over for her one happiness.

And why indeed should God, who had made her without strength, have left her without consolation, under the sorrowful burden of her life?
One day, then, she realized that she was to have a child, and all that remained to her of chastity leaped for joy.

The soul has strange refuges.