Niche

It was Françoise

It was Françoise, motionless and erect, framed in the small doorway of the corridor like the statue of a saint in its niche. When we had grown more accustomed to this religious darkness we could discern in her features the disinterested love of humanity, the tender respect for the gentry, which the hope of receiving New Year bounty intensified in the nobler regions of her heart.

Narrative Context: 
Memory of Aunt Léonie
Image: 
Statue, Lady of Miracles || Source - N/A
Volume: 
1
Part: 
1
Chapter: 
1
Page_Start: 
71
Page_End: 
71