He spoke solemnly. His face looked stern for the first time.
Sophy rose. Her spirit was stilled, but her body felt as though it had been beaten with staves. Every bone and nerve ached dully. The priest rose too. She looked at him timidly:
"Can you give me your blessing, Father?"
His lovely smile melted the stern look. Instinctively she knelt, and he stretched out his hands, making the sign of the cross in the air above her bent head.
"Benedicat te omnipotens Deus, Pater et Filius et Spiritus Sanctus. Amen."
The grave Latin words of benediction rolled solemnly over her. Her spirit felt folded in a soothing peace. She rose, trembling a little.
"I wish I could thank you ... as I want to, Father," she whispered.
"Thank God, my child. He sent you to me."
"Would it help you to come here sometimes, to this simple house dedicated to the Mother of Compassion?"