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Updated: June 21, 2025
Florine, accompanied by a young girl, deformed and badly dressed, was waiting at the door of the little corridor. "Introduce the princess first," said Mother Sainte Perpetue. And, with charming forethought, she drew an armchair to the fire. Mme. de Saint Dizier entered. Without pretensions to juvenile coquetry, still the princess was tastefully and elegantly dressed.
Have you any, little one?" "Yes," cried she. "I have two dark freckles, one on my shoulder and one on my back, rather low down, but it is hidden in a fold of the flesh." "How did you see it?" asked Sister Perpetue. "I did not know it. It was Monsieur de Montresor who found it out." "Ha, ha!" said the sister, "is that all he saw?"
The factory had been closed all day, the carriage gate was bolted, the street was deserted. There was no one in the house but the two nuns, Sister Perpetue and Sister Simplice, who were watching beside the body of Fantine.
After respectfully kissing the hand of the superior, the princess went out by the great door, which led to an apartment opening on the principal staircase. Some minutes after, Florine entered the room by another way. The superior was seated and Florine approached her with timid humility. "Did you meet the Princess de Saint-Dizier?" asked Mother Sainte Perpetue.
"Our holy Mother Perpetue," said the princess, "took every means to discover this abominable adultery." "Well, then, M. Hardy is wounded in his dearest affections, I admit," said Father d'Aigrigny, still disputing every inch of ground; "ruined too in his fortune, which will only make him the more eager after this inheritance."
Sister Perpetue was a robust nun from Marines near Pontoise, who chattered her patois, droned, grumbled, sugared the potion according to the bigotry or the hypocrisy of the invalid, treated her patients abruptly, roughly, was crabbed with the dying, almost flung God in their faces, stoned their death agony with prayers mumbled in a rage; was bold, honest, and ruddy.
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