"Who has examined her?" asked Monsignor sharply.
"She was examined last night on her arrival, and again this morning. Dr. Meurot, the President here" (he indicated with his head the doctor who sat three places off, who was putting his questions rapidly to the two attending physicians)—"Dr. Meurot examined her himself early this morning. This is just the formal process before she goes to the grotto. The fracture is complete. It's between the eleventh and twelfth dorsal vertebrae."
"And you think she'll be cured?" The monk smiled.
"Who can tell?" he said. "We've only had one case before, and the papers on that are not quite in order, though it's commonly believed to be genuine."
"But it's possible?"
"Oh, certainly. And her own conviction is absolute. It'll be interesting."
"You seem to take it pretty easily," murmured the prelate.
"Oh, the facts are established a hundred times over—the facts, I mean, that cures take place here which are not even approached in mental laboratories. But—-"
He was interrupted by a sudden movement of the brancardiers.
"See, they're removing her," he said. "Now, what'll you do, Monsignor? Will you go down to the grotto, or would you sooner watch a few more cases?"