It is the horse of the priest, you understand, and—and he does not know that I have borrowed it. ’ ‘Because I was a servant in the vicomte’s house? Things have changed. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so.
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