“Then I no longer understand what good manners are.”
“No,” said Bussy, “I could not go to the castle; M. le Baron would watch his daughter.”
“Good!” said Jeanne, “here is a lesson for me,” and kissing Diana on the forehead, she ran away. Diana tried to stop her, but Bussy seized her hands, and she let her friend go. They remained alone.
“Have I not done well, madame,” said Bussy, “and do you not approve?”
“I do not desire to feign,” said Diana, “besides, it would be useless; you know I approve; but here must stop my indulgence; in calling for you as I did just now I was mad—I was guilty.”
“Mon Dieu! What do you say?”
“Alas I count, the truth; I have a right to make M. de Monsoreau unhappy, to withhold from him my smiles and my love, but I have no right to bestow them on another: for, after all, he is my master.”
“Now, you will let me speak, will you not?”
“Speak!”
“Well! of all that you have just said, you do not find one word in your heart.”