in.

La Teuse began to clear the table and wished to remove the plate on
which Desiree had laid the blackbird's nest. You are not going to bed
here, I suppose, mademoiselle,' she said. 'Do leave those nasty things.'

Desiree, however, defended her plate. She covered the nest with her bare
arms, no longer gay, but cross at being disturbed.

'I hope those birds are not going to be kept,' exclaimed Brother
Archangias. 'It would bring bad luck. You must wring their necks.'

And he already stretched out his big hands; but the girl rose and
stepped back quivering, hugging the nest to her bosom. She stared
fixedly at the Brother, her lips curling upwards, like those of a wolf
about to bite.

'Don't touch the little things,' she stammered. 'You are ugly.'

With such singular contempt did she emphasise that last word that Abbe
Mouret started as if the Brother's ugliness had just struck him for the
first time. The latter contented himself with growling. He had always
felt a covert hatred for Desiree, whose lusty physical development
offended him. When she had left the room, still walking backwards, and
never taking her eyes from him, he shrugged his shoulders and muttered
between his teeth some coarse abuse which no one heard.

'She had better go to bed,' said La Teuse. 'She would only bore us
by-and-by in church.'

'Has any one come yet?' asked Abbe Mouret.

'Oh, the girls have been outside a long time with armfuls of boughs. I
am just going to light the lamps. We can begin whenever you like.'

A few seconds later she could be heard swearing in the sacristy because
the matches were damp. Brother Archangias, who remained alone with the
priest, sourly inquired: 'For the month of Mary, eh?'

'Yes,' replied Abbe Mouret. 'The last few days the girls about here were
hard at work and couldn't come as usual to decorate the Lady Chapel. So
the ceremony was postponed till to-night.'

'A nice custom,' muttered the Brother. 'When I see them all putting up
their boughs I feel inclined to knock them down and make them confess
their misdeeds before touching the altar. It's a shame to allow women to
rustle their dresses so near the holy relics.'

The Abbe made an apologetic gesture. He had only been at Les Artaud a
little while, he must follow the customs.

'Whenever you like, Monsieur le Cure, we're ready!' now called out La
Teuse.

But Brother Archangias detained him a minute. 'I am off,' he said.
'Religion isn't a prostitut