Quotation from: Villette

Written by: Charlotte Bronte


Mechanically obedient, I rose and went. I knew what I was about; my
mind had run over the intent with lightning-speed. To take this step
could not make me more wretched than I was; it might soothe me.


The priest within the confessional never turned his eyes to regard me;
he only quietly inclined his ear to my lips. He might be a good man,
but this duty had become to him a sort of form: he went through it
with the phlegm of custom. I hesitated; of the formula of confession I
was ignorant: instead of commencing, then, with the prelude usual, I
said:--"Mon pere, je suis Protestante."

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