"Yes."
"She's pretty well punished as it is. She looks as if she had been through a threshing-machine. How such a chit could——"
Father Sébastien laughed, in his low, gurgling way, and rubbed his hands some more, still eying Fouchette.
"She's been a good girl for five years, you say?"
"Yes, Father; we could not complain."
"Five years is a very long time to—to—for a girl like her to be good. Is it not so?"
"Truly."
"And yet they say her language was dreadfully—er—ah—improper."
"If you were pulled out of bed in the night and beaten because you spoke the truth to the Supérieure," broke in Fouchette at this point, "you'd probably use bad language too!"
"Chut! child," said the Supérieure, smiling in spite of herself.