She knelt down, her wealth of hair streaming over her beautiful shoulders, her hands reverently clasped, her eyes fixed on the silver crucifix, and she said, in a low tone: "Forgive me that I have forgotten thee, thou who never hast forgotten me! I return thanks to thee that thou hast granted my desires; thou hast given me the happiness of which I have dreamed without daring to ask it.
Ah, yes, I am happy, perfectly happy! I promise thee that I will cast the reflection of my joy among the poor and unfortunate of this world: I will love them as I have never loved them before! When we give them food and drink, we give it also unto thee; and when we give them flowers, this crown of thorns that has wounded thy brow bursts into bloom.

I will give them flowers and bread.

It is vain to say that thou art a jealous God.

Full as may be my heart, thou knowest that there is always room for thee, and that thou never canst knock at the door without my crying: 'Enter; the house and all that therein is belong unto thee! My happiness blesses thee: oh, bless thou it!'" While Mlle.

Moriaz thus held communion with her crucifix, Samuel Brohl was rolling along the great highway from Cormeilles to Argenteuil, a distance of six kilometres.