Bazan

It was something indefinable about his appearance, his expression, his gait – in fact, about his whole person – that betrayed the formidable mark of ordination that even the flames of hell are unable to efface. There was no doubt about it: he was a priest.

Night had closed in by the time they reached the coppice behind which lay the massive manor. There was no moon and the darkness made it impossible to distinguish any details of the house, so that one was only aware of its imposing enormity. Not a single light shone from within, and the main door appeared to be firmly locked and bolted. The marquis headed towards a very low side-door, from which a robust young woman emerged to light their way with an oil-lamp.

it is easier never to sin at all than to sin only once