"And the queen, Monsieur Maurice?" demanded Geneviève, timidly; "has she sometimes evinced her sense of this delicacy, to which she is so little accustomed?"
"The prisoner has thanked me several times for my consideration for her, Madame."
"Then she must expect your turn to guard with pleasure?"
"I believe she does, Madame," replied Maurice.
"Then," said Morand, tremulous as a woman, "since you have confessed what no one nowadays confesses,—that you have a generous heart,—you will not surely persecute the children either?"
"I!" said Maurice; "ask the infamous Simon the weight of the arm of the municipal before whom he had the audacity to beat the little Capet."
This answer produced a spontaneous movement at Dixmer's table. All the guests rose respectfully; Maurice alone remained seated, and had not the slightest idea that he had elicited this mark of admiration.
"Why, what on earth is the matter?" said he, astonished.
"I thought some one called from the manufactory," said Dixmer.
"No," said Geneviève; "at first I thought so too; but we are mistaken." And all resumed their seats.