The Blessed Virgin did not grant my prayer, she did not restore your
faith, and I am very, very wretched."
She was weeping, a hot tear fell upon the priest's hand, which she was
still holding. It quite upset him, and he ceased struggling, confessing,
in his turn letting his tears flow, whilst, in a very low voice, he
stammered: "Ah! Marie, I am very wretched also. Oh! so very wretched."
For a moment they remained silent, in their cruel grief at feeling that
the abyss which parts different beliefs was yawning between them. They
would never belong to one another again, and they were in despair at
being so utterly unable to bring themselves nearer to one another; but
the severance was henceforth definitive, since Heaven itself had been
unable to reconnect the bond. And thus, side by side, they wept over
their separation.
"I who prayed so fervently for your conversion," she said in a dolorous
voice, "I who was so happy. It had seemed to me that your soul was
mingling with mine; and it was so delightful to have been saved together,
together. I felt such strength for life; oh, strength enough to raise the
world!"
He did not answer; his tears were still flowing, flowing without end.
"And to think," she resumed, "that I was saved all alone; that this great
happiness fell upon me without you having any share in it.
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