"Look!" he exclaimed, "see how beautiful the corn is. Let us purify our eyes."
To right and left the harvest stretched immaculate, already ripe for the sickle, high and vigorous, breathing in the light by the slender points of their innumerable ears, that, at certain moments, seemed to wave and become converted into a volatile gold. Alone beneath the limpid arch of heaven, they exhaled a spirit of purity by which both their hearts, sad and tired, were refreshed.
"How strong the reflection is?" said Hippolyte, half lowering her long lashes.
"You have your curtains."
She smiled. It seemed that the shadow of her sadness was about to be dissipated.
Many carriages came in a long line from the opposite direction, descending towards the Sanctuary. For a few minutes the road, the bushes, the fields, all disappeared from around them in the dust.
"Charity, for the love of the Madonna! Charity! Charity!"
"Charity! In the name of the Virgin of Miracles!"
"Have pity on a poor, unfortunate man!"
"Charity! Charity!"