The servant came near him:

--It is you who are making me ill with your fits of anger, she said with
solicitude: shall I make you a little tea?

--I don't want anything.

--Come, Monsieur Marcel, be yourself. I am not what you think, no, I am
not.

--It is my wish that you leave me, Veronica.

--Everything I do is for your interest, Monsieur le Curé, you will
understand it one day.

--Leave me, I say.

The servant withdrew.

--It cannot last thus, he thought. What a scandalous scene! And what a
horrible fatality thrusts me into this ridiculous and miserable situation!
Ah, the apostle is right: "As soon as we leave the straight path, we fall
into the abyss." And I am in the abyss, for I am the laughing-stock of this
servant. What will become of me with this creature? How can I get rid of
her? Can I turn her out? She would proclaim everywhere what she has
discovered.... Ah, if it were only a question of myself alone! What a
dilemma I am involved in! But that letter, that letter! Suzanne!... dear
Suzanne ... no doubt it is she who has written to me, my heart tells me so
loudly.