Henri Marriott seeks a kind of sustenance in prayer and kneels for an hour on the hard cold penance of the sacristy floor. And when he gets up, he peers through the grille and sees Mariette in the night of the oratory, intently staring at the crucifix above the high altar, her hands spread wide as if she were nailed just as Christ was. He puts on his biretta and overcoat and half genuflects with difficulty and goes back to the priest's house.

Gabe Weisert