"But since I said good-by to you and entered the convent, I have always thought of you and have only put you out of my mind when ordered to do so by my confessor, who imposed many penances upon me.

I recalled our games and our quarrels when we were children.

You used to pick up the most beautiful shells and search in the river for the roundest and smoothest pebbles of different colors that we might play games with them.

You were very stupid and always lost, and by way of a forfeit I would slap you with the palm of my hand, but I always tried not to strike you hard, for I had pity on you.

In those games you cheated much, even more than I did, and we used to finish our play in a quarrel.