But the moment that Françoise herself approached, some evil spirit would urge me to attempt to make her angry, and I would avail myself of the slightest pretext to say to her that I regretted my aunt's death because she had been a good woman in spite of her absurdities, but not in the least because she was my aunt; that she might easily have been my aunt and yet have been so odious that her death would not have caused me a moment's sorrow; statements which, in a book, would have struck me as merely fatuous.
Baina, Françoise nire ondoan suertatzen zèn bakoitzean, halako txerren moduko batek bultzatzen ninduen hura beti xaxatzera, sumin zedin desiratzera, eta aitzakiarik txikienaz ere baliatu ohi nintzen hari zera esateko, nik izeba, bere bitxikeriak gorabehera, emakume ona zelako deitoratzen nuela, eta ez nire izeba zelako, inola ere, zeren gerta baitzitekeen nire izeba izatea baina nik hari gorrotagarri iriztea, eta haren heriotzak niri batere atsekaberik eragin ez izana, esaldiok liburu batean erabat baldar irudituko zitzaizkidakeen arren.