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The leprosy of unreality disfigured every human creature in

attendance upon Monseigneur. In the outermost room were half a

dozen exceptional people who had had, for a few years, some vague

misgiving in them that things in general were going rather wrong.

As a promising way of setting them right, half of the half-dozen

had become members of a fantastic sect of Convulsionists, and

were even then considering within themselves whether they should

foam, rage, roar, and turn cataleptic on the spot--thereby

setting up a highly intelligible finger-post to the Future, for

Monseigneur's guidance.