Each time a bundle disappeared from her hands, the sickly, sneering face of the officer of gendarmes flashed up before her like a yellow stain, like the flame of a match in a dark room, and she said to him in her mind, with a feeling of malicious pleasure:
Esku artetik liburu sorta bat desagertzen zitzaion bakoitzean, jendarme-ofizialaren aurpegia agertzen zitzaion aurrean orban hori baten antzera, gela ilun batean piztutako pospoloaren sugarra bailitzan. Eta, alaitasun maltzurrez, bere golkorako esaten zuen: