The two columns of closely-printed text, the
impression of which remained very black upon the papers yellowed by
time, frightened her by the strange, almost barbaric look of the
Gothic letters. Still, she accustomed herself to it, deciphered these
characters, learned the abbreviations and the contractions, and soon
knew how to explain the turning of the phrases and the old-fashioned
words. At last she could read it easily, and was as enchanted as if she
were penetrating a mystery, and she triumphed over each new difficulty
that she conquered.
Under these laborious shades a whole world of light revealed itself. She
entered, as it were, into a celestial splendour. For now the few classic
books they owned, so cold and dry, existed no longer. The Legend alone
interested her. She bent over it, with her forehead resting on her
hands, studying it so intently, that she no longer lived in the real
life, but, unconscious of time, she seemed to see, mounting from the
depths of the unknown, the broad expansion of a dream.
How wonderful it all was! These saints and virgins! They are born
predestined; solemn voices announce their coming, and their mothers have
marvellous dreams about them. All are beautiful, strong, and victorious.
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