recognized, abandons the worthless creature and lets him roll over, falling
into an abyss of iniquity.

Oh! my God! where is all this going to bring me? What will become of me?
How can I show my brow all covered with shame? Is not my infamy written
there?... She, she, what will she think of me?... To kiss her hand, her
soft perfumed hand. Oh God, God all-powerful, where am I? where am I going?
I said it; martyrdom or shame! It is shame which awaits me.

So spoke the Curé, when Marianne had taken away her young mistress, and his
conscience exaggerated the gravity and the consequences of his imprudent
rapture.

--Yes, it is shame, it is shame.

--Do not despair in this way, said a jeering voice.

Marcel turned round, terror-struck.

His servant was behind him.

She had approached, noiselessly, and was looking at him with her strange,
green eyes.

--Shame lies in scandal, she added sententiously. Reassure yourself; that
pretty young lady will hold her tongue.

She spoke low, slowly, with perfect calm, and each word penetrated the
priest's heart like a steel blade.