—Ah, I can explain it all now. You have been washed from your sins. That is well, my daughter, but you must not fall into them again.
—Fall where?
—Into your sins.
—That will be very hard, said Zulma with a sigh, for I commit so many of them.
—Many! so young! How old are you?
—Sixteen.
—Sixteen; and so grown-up already. But what are the sins that you can commit at sixteen?
—Many. The Curé of the Hospital has assured me so. He said to me that I was a cup of iniquity.
—Oh, he has exaggerated; I feel sure that he has exaggerated. What sins do you commit then?
—I do not say my prayers, I do not fast on Friday, I do not go to Mass.