"It is to stir you, to give you new sensations. It is to make you feel your life strongly--not only your virtues, but your vicious, perverse points."
"Dieu! que dit-elle?" cried Hortense, who hitherto had been counting stitches in her knitting, and had not much attended to what was said, but whose ear these two strong words caught with a tweak.
"Never mind her, sister; let her talk. Now just let her say anything she pleases to-night. She likes to come down hard upon your brother sometimes. It amuses me, so let her alone."
Caroline, who, mounted on a chair, had been rummaging the bookcase, returned with a book.

"It is to stir you, to give you new sensations. It is to make you feel your life strongly - not only your virtues, but your vices."
"What is she saying?" cried Hortense, who had been counting stitches.
"Never mind, sister; let her talk. Let her say anything she pleases tonight. It amuses me."
Caroline, who had been rummaging at the bookcase, returned with a book.
