"Meanwhile Sister Clemence shook his wand furiously, convulsively, and the movement of her bottom indicated that her delicious moment was coming.

"The Abbe's tongue went slower but pressed harder, and when she gave him a great shove accompanied by a warm rub on his immense cock, a superb jet spouted from the latter, while he received her little amorous dew upon his tongue, the deserved tribute of conscientious labour.

"That very day the Abbe cast his robe to the four winds of heaven and carried little Sister Clemence off to Paris. Once in possession of her fortune, she took pretty lodgings and furnished them nicely. She made up her mind to have a good time between theatre-going and her amorous sports with the Abbe, who had also a comfortable income of his own."

"The story of Sister Clemence is excellent, Mademoiselle," said I, "and I would give much to make her acquaintance as well as that of the Abbe. Unfortunately, it is only fiction!" I added.

"On the contrary, it is a story of real life, M. Dormeuil, the true history of a person to whom I can introduce you, if you like," replied the little woman.

"Truly I would be charmed to know her and shall await an introduction with impatience," I answered.

"You will not have long to wait," was the unexpected reply of the blonde. She then rose and making a timid curtsy, her eyes modestly cast down, her hands joined, she said:

"Allow me to introduce to you Sister Clemence, Monsieur Dormeuil," and she broke into a merry laugh.

I was amazed. "And the Abbe?" I inquired.

"You have heard me speak of Monsieur Lorille? He is the Abbe," she answered quietly.

I had a good laugh over the whole adventure, and then we conversed pleasantly on many subjects until we were interrupted by the arrival of Pauline.