"Why not? You can't be made differently from your sister, who would be now about thirty. I want to shew you her portrait naked."
"Have you got it with you? I should so like to see it."
I drew it out and gave it to her. She admired it, kissed it, and asked me if the painter had followed nature in all respects.
"Certainly," said I. "She knew that such a picture would give me pleasure."
"It is very fine. It is more like me than the other picture. But I suppose the long hair is only put in to please you?"
"Not at all. Italian nuns are allowed to wear their hair as long as they please, provided they do not shew it.
"We have the same privilege. Our hair is cut once, and then we may let it grow as long as we like."
"Then you have long hair?"
"As long as in the picture; but you would not like my hair as it is black."
"Why, black is my favourite colour. In the name of God, let me see it."