midday
The news was grateful , yet strangely moving to Angélique ; she trembled and turned pale , not for truth , but for doubt and dread of possible failure or discovery . She sent by an unknown hand to the house of Mère Malheur a little basket containing a bouquet of roses so beautiful and fragrant that they might have been plucked in the garden of Eden . La Corriveau carried the basket into an inner chamber , a small room , the window of which never saw the sun , but opened against the close , overhanging rock , which was so near that it might be touched by the hand . The dark , damp wall of the cliff shed a gloomy obscurity in the room even at midday . The small black eyes of La Corriveau glittered like poniards as she opened the basket , and taking out the bouquet , found attached to it by a ribbon a silken purse containing a number of glittering pieces of gold . She pressed the coins to her cheek , and even put them between her lips to taste their sweetness , for money she loved beyond all things . The passion of her soul was avarice ; her wickedness took its direction from the love of money , and scrupled at no iniquity for the sake of it .