She knew that baseness and uncleanness existed, and yet clung to her faith in greatness, nobility, and purity.
In the course of time she settled upon a regular method of talking with the prisoners. She sought to learn of their early life, but she found that they distrusted her motive, suspecting that she was seeking to discover some crime which they might have committed, and she had to contend with their cunning, which led them to tell her falsehoods.
Often, however, she succeeded in bringing the most hardened to better thoughts and feelings, so that they spoke with tremulous voice of the paradise of youthful innocence.
When Madame Pfann visited Landolin in prison, she found her task easier than usual, for she had long known him and his family. He quickly gave her to understand that he did not value her visit very highly, as she honored the commonest prisoner in the same way.
He listened attentively for her answer, and was not surprised when she replied, with a smile:
"I cannot double myself when I visit you; but I will come oftener if you like."
It now happened, as it often had before with prisoners, that Landolin looked for her visit as a diversion, and that was something gained.
"Has Titus been here, and taken a look at the tower where I shut am up? Or perhaps he has not wanted to see me. I'll say beforehand I won't see him," said Landolin, angrily.
Madame Pfann saw that his thoughts were occupied with his rival, so she said that no one should rejoice in another's misfortune, for every one has his own secret sorrow.
"Has he? Has anything happened to him?" asked Landolin, eagerly.