Surely, Father Eustace can never be such a brute as to flog that lovely rump, I thought to myself. As these reflections were passing through my mind, my aunt told my mother about the fault for which Emilie was to suffer. It appears that, because of her complaints of poor eyesight, she was allowed an extra quantity of candles in her sleeping apartments. When the Lady Abbess was kind enough to visit her in the middle of the night, and to her intense consternation, instead of finding the young novice wrapped in slumber, she was lying partly uncovered with her legs spread lasciviously open as far as they could get. A large candle rammed about nine inches up her cunt, which Emilie was driving in and out most furiously, and heaving and wriggling her rump about as if she was possessed by the devil.
Of course, any attempt at concealment or excuse was utterly useless, as Lady Agatha was an eyewitness of the transaction. Indeed, at the very minute of her entering the apartment, shuddering spasms overtook Mademoiselle Emilie and she released the flood of her self-induced passion. Emilie sank back upon the pillows in a half-fainting state, leaving her candle to drop out of its come-moistened sheath at its leisure.
Now, the Abbess was not a severe woman – on the contrary, she was especially indulgent to the young ladies under her charge. But, upon the discovery of Emilie, she was aggravated into being rather severe, as Emilie on being scolded, retorted with some impertinent remarks about handsome young confessors, and the superior privileges of the convent superiors.