"I am not joking, dear sister; I am simply stating facts. Look you; you sent me to the Minim brethren at Angoulème to prepare for the priesthood."
"Well?"
"I studied diligently there. I know Greek like Homer, Latin like Cicero, and theology like John Huss. Having nothing more to learn among those worthy monks, I left their establishment, still following out your wishes, and went to the Carmelites at Rouen, to make profession of faith."
"You forget to say that I had promised you a yearly allowance of a hundred pistoles, and that I kept my promise. A hundred pistoles for a Carmelite was more than enough, I should say."
"I don't deny it, my dear sister; but the convent always claimed my allowance on the pretext that I was not yet a Carmelite."
"Even so, did you not, when you consecrated your life to the Church, take a vow of poverty?"
"If I did make such a vow, dear sister, I give you my word that I have faithfully lived up to it; no one was ever poorer than I."
"But how did you leave the convent?"
"Ah! there you are! In the same way that Adam left the earthly paradise; it was knowledge that undid me, sister; I knew too much."
"What's that? you knew too much?"