"
Benedetto prostrated himself on the floor, and placed his forehead where
the knees should rest. Through the open window of the cell, the pale
light of the rainy sky fell obliquely upon the backs of the prostrate
man and of the man standing erect, his face raised towards the great
cross. The murmur of the rain, the rumble of the deep Anio, would have
meant to Jeanne the distressed lament of all that lives and loves in the
world; to Don Clemente they meant the pious union of inferior creatures
with the creature supplicating the common Father. Benedetto himself did
not notice them.
He rose, his face composed, and, in obedience to his master's gesture,
put on the robe of a lay-brother, which was spread out upon the bed, and
fastened the leathern girdle. When he was dressed he opened wide his
arms and displayed himself, smiling to his master, who was gratified to
see how dignified, how spiritually beautiful he was in that habit.
"You did not understand?" said Benedetto. "You were not reminded of
something?"
No, Don Clemente had thought that Benedetto's intense emotion had been
caused by his humility.
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