"It is a woman, and so of course you will help me. Our sex for the
bottom of all mischief, Mere Malheur! I do not know what women are
made for except to plague one another for the sake of worthless
men!"
The old crone laughed a hideous laugh, and playfully pushed her long
fingers into the ribs of La Corriveau. "Made for! quotha! men's
temptation, to be sure, and the beginning of all mischief!"
"Pretty temptations you and I are, Mere Malheur!" replied La
Corriveau, with a scornful laugh.
"Well, we were pretty temptations once! I will never give up that!
You must own, Dame Dodier, we were both pretty temptations once!"
"Pshaw! I wish I had been a man, for my part," replied La
Corriveau, impetuously. "It was a spiteful cross of fate to make
me a woman!"
"But, Dame Dodier, I like to be a woman, I do. A man cannot be half
as wicked as a woman, especially if she be young and pretty," said
the old woman, laughing till the tears ran out of her bleared eyes.
"Nay, that is true, Mere Malheur; the fairest women in the world are
ever the worst! fair and false! fair and false! they are always so.
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