Ah! malediction and misery, we are too poor to keep our church in repair!" Here he shook his head and began fumbling with a large bunch of keys.
"Never mind the church now," said I."Can you, or can you not, tell me what I want to know ?" "Everything, from beginning to end--absolutely everything.

Why, I answered the gate-bell--I always answer the gate-bell here," said the Capuchin.
"What, in Heaven's name, has the gate-bell to do with the unburied corpse in your house ?" "Listen, son of mine, and you shall know.

Some time ago--some months--ah! me, I'm old; I've lost my memory; I don't know how many months--ah! miserable me, what a very old, old monk I am!" Here he comforted himself with another pinch of snuff.
"Never mind the exact time," said I."I don't care about that." "Good," said the Capuchin.

"Now I can go on.

Well, let us say it is some months ago--we in this convent are all at breakfast--wretched, wretched breakfasts, son of mine, in this convent!--we are at breakfast, and we hear _bang! bang!_ twice over.