Book 2, Chapter 12: Hearts Awakened

⁠​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​​⁠In the morning, her head on the embroidered pillow, Therese was thinking of the walks of the day before; of the Virgins, framed with angels; of the innumerable children, painted or carved, all beautiful, all happy, who sing ingenuously the Alleluia of grace and of beauty. In the illustrious chapel of the Brancacci, before those frescoes, pale and resplendent as a divine dawn, he had talked to her