She recollected that she had instinctively hated it, this string of beads of bone, cut in the shape of little olives, strung on a silken cord, and fastened by a medallion of plaited silver, bearing the date of her entrance into the "Home" and her number.

She considered it as a badge of slavery, and tried several times to break it with her little hands, without any fear as to the consequences of doing so.

Then, when older, she complained that it choked her.

For a year longer she was obliged to wear it.

Great, indeed, was her joy when, in the presence of the mayor of the parish, the inspector's aid had cut the cord, replacing this sign of individuality by a formal description, in which allusion was made to her violet-coloured eyes and her fine golden hair.