SISTER MARTHA:
And such a little plum!

MOTHER MARGUERITE:
I shall tell this to Monsieur Cyrano.

SISTER CLAIRE:
Nay, prithee do not!--he will mock!

SISTER MARTHA:
He'll say we nuns are vain!

SISTER CLAIRE:
And greedy!

MOTHER MARGUERITE (smiling):
Ay, and kind!

SISTER CLAIRE:
Is it not true, pray, Mother Marguerite,
That he has come, each week, on Saturday
For ten years, to the convent?

MOTHER MARGUERITE:
Ay! and more!
Ever since--fourteen years ago--the day
His cousin brought here, 'midst our woolen coifs,
The worldly mourning of her widow's veil,
Like a blackbird's wing among the convent doves!