“And are you willing to do penance for it?”
Lisa inclined her head, and trembled.
“Your sin has been very great. Your behavior no doubt was light, such as to encourage Jacques Haret or any other evil man.”
Lisa raised her eyes to the bishop’s face, and said gently:
“Sir, I can not say that. However wicked I was, at least I was not wicked in that way.”
“But you must have been,” replied the bishop, with the calm confidence of ignorance. “And the misery you endured while persisting in your sinful courses, was God’s punishment.”
“But, sir,” said Lisa, still calmly, “I was not miserable then. I was the happiest of God’s creatures.”
“Impossible!” cried the bishop, starting from his chair, as he had done the day before, in the interview with that other obstinate woman, Francezka Cheverny.
Lisa did not contradict the bishop, but the bishop saw that his denial of the fact had not really affected that fact.
“Do you mean to tell me,” thundered the bishop, “that you were happy in the society of your partner in guilt?”