nswered "Yes" or "No" quite sharply.

But she took a great interest in the little feast which we had at
Easter every year. She had the cakes brought in, and we put them on a
table and covered them with a white cloth, so that the greedy girls
should not see them all at the same time. On feast days we were
allowed to talk as much as we liked at table, and we made a tremendous
noise. Sister Marie-Aimee waited on us with a smile and a word for
each of us. That day she was going to serve the cakes, and Madeleine,
who was helping her, was taking off the cloth which covered them. Then
a cat, which had been under the cloth, jumped down and ran away.
Sister Marie-Aimee and Madeleine both said "Oh," and Madeleine said,
"The dirty beast has been nibbling all the cakes." Sister Marie-Aimee
did not like the cat. She stood perfectly still for a minute, then ran
to the corner, took a stick and ran after it. It was horrible. The
cat was frightened out of its wits, and jumped this way and that out of
the way of the stick with which Sister Marie-Aimee kept hitting the
benches and the walls. All the little girls were frightened, and ran
towards the door. Sister Marie-Aimee stopped them. "Nobody is to go
out," she said. I hardly knew her. Her lips were pressed together,
her cheeks were as white as her cap, and her eyes, which seemed to
flame, frightened me so that I hid my face in the hollow of my arm. I
did not want to do so, but I soon looked up again. The cat hunt was
still going on. Sister Marie-Aimee, with her stick in the air, ran
after the cat without saying a word. Her lips were open, and I could
see her little pointed teeth. She ran about, jumping over the benches,
and climbed up on to the table, lifting her petticoats as she did so.
When she was going to hit the cat it jumped and ran up a curtain right
on to the top of the window. Madeleine, who had been following Sister
Marie-Aimee about, wanted to go and fetch a longer stick, but Sister
Marie-Aimee stopped her, and said, "It is lucky to have got away."
Bonne Justine, who was standing near me, hid her eyes and murmured,
"Oh, it is shameful, shameful!" and I thought it was shameful, too. I
felt as though Sister Marie-Aimee had grown smaller. I had always
thought her quite faultless. I compared this scene with another one,
which had happened one day when there was a big storm. That day Sister
Marie-Aimee had been wonderful. While she was chasing the cat I c