Thereupon Brother Archangias plumply answered: 'I had to tell you just
what I have told you. The Artauds live like pigs. Only yesterday I
learned that Rosalie, old Bambousse's eldest daughter, is in the family
way. It happens with all of them before they get married. And they
simply laugh at reproaches, as you know.'

'Yes,' murmured Abbe Mouret, 'it is a great scandal. I am just on my way
to see old Bambousse to speak to him about it; it is desirable that they
should be married as soon as possible. The child's father, it seems, is
Fortune, the Brichets' eldest son. Unfortunately the Brichets are poor.'

'That Rosalie, now,' continued the Brother, 'is just eighteen. Not four
years since I still had her under me at school, and she was already a
gadabout. I have now got her sister Catherine, a chit of eleven, who
seems likely to become even worse than her elder. One comes across her
in every corner with that little scamp, Vincent. It's no good, you may
pull their ears till they bleed, the woman always crops up in them. They
carry perdition about with them and are only fit to be thrown on a
muck-heap. What a splendid riddance if all girls were strangled at their
birth!'

His loathing, his hatred of woman made him swear like a carter. Abbe
Mouret, who had been listening to him with unmoved countenance, smiled
at last at his rabid utterances. He called Voriau, who had strayed into
a field close by.

'There, look there!' cried Brother Archangias, pointing to a group
of children playing at the bottom of a ravine, 'there are my young
devils, who play the truant under pretence of going to help their