—The shame?
The Curé started and raised his head. His lamp was out, and the dying embers on the hearth cast only a feeble light into the room.
He distinguished, however, a few steps from him the outline of a woman's form.
—Who is there? he cried with a sort of terror.
The shadowy outline stood forth more clearly.
He recognized his servant.
—Why the shame? she said.
XXII.
THE SERVANT.
"I have already said that dame Jacinthe although little superannuated, had still kept her bloom. It is true that she spared nothing to preserve it: besides taking a clyster every day, she swallowed some excellent jelly during the day and on going to bed."