Then, they came to say "Good night" to M. le Curé, who had dined at the chateau, as he did every Thursday.
The Abbé Mauduit put two of the young ones sitting on his knees, passing his long arms clad in black behind the children's necks; and, drawing their heads towards him with a paternal movement, he kissed each of them on the forehead with a long, tender kiss.
Then, he again set them down on the ground, and the little beings went off, the boy in front, and the girls behind.
"You are fond of children, M. le Curé," said the Comtesse.
"Very fond, Madame."
The old woman raised her bright eyes towards the priest.
"And—has your solitude never weighed too heavily on you?"
"Yes, sometimes."
He became silent, hesitated, and then added: "But I was never made for ordinary life."
"What do you know about it?"