The countess rose.
"I think I had better see if Governor Zamore is not on the return."
But the king shook his head, inflamed by the punch, the tokay and the champagne. He was conscious of still another perfume, and his nose directed him to a doorway suddenly opened. It led into a tempting chamber, hung with sky-blue satin, embroidered with flowers in their natural colors, an alcove where a mysterious soft light reigned.
"Well, sire, the governor seems to have locked us in. And unless we save ourselves out of window with the curtains——"
"No, do not let us pull them down—rather, draw them close!"
He opened his arms, laughing, and the beauty let the rose fall from her teeth and it burst all its petals open as it reached the carpet.
[CHAPTER XXI.]
COUNTESS CUT COUNTESS.
On the road to Paris from Luciennes the poor Countess Dubarry was racing along like a disembodied spirit. An advice from her brother Jean had dashed her down when she had brought the king to the point of arranging for her presentation day.
"So the old donkey has fooled us?" she cried, when she was alone with him.