"The same as last month, father."

"Yes, yes, pastry between meals," I sighed gravely.

"Yes, father, and almost always a glass of Capri or of Syracuse after
it."

"Or of Syracuse after it. Well, let that pass, let that pass."

I fancied that the mention of this pastry and those choice wines was
becoming a source of straying thoughts on my part, for which I mentally
asked forgiveness of heaven.

"What else do you recall?" I asked, passing my hand over my face.

"Nothing else, father; I do not recollect anything else."

"Well let a sincere repentance spring up in your heart for the sins you
have just admitted, and for those which you may have forgotten; commune
with yourself, humble yourself in the presence of the great act you have
just accomplished. I will give you absolution. Go in peace."

The Countess rose, smiled at me with discreet courtesy, and, resuming her
ordinary voice, said in a low tone, "Till Saturday evening, then?"

I bowed as a sign of assent, but felt rather embarrassed on account of my
sacred character.