“A quarrel,” she continued, “which arose out of a conversation scandalous in its tone and purport, and more or less well founded, respecting the virtue of a certain lady.”
“Ah! of a certain lady,—this is quite another thing,” said Manicamp.
“You begin to understand, do you not?”
“Your highness will excuse me, but I dare not—”
“You dare not,” said Madame, exasperated; “very well, then, wait one moment, I will dare.”
“Madame, Madame!” exclaimed Manicamp, as if in great dismay, “be careful of what you are going to say.”
“It would seem, monsieur, that, if I happened to be a man, you would challenge me, notwithstanding his majesty’s edicts, as Monsieur de Guiche challenged M. de Wardes; and that, too, on account of the virtue of Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”
“Of Mademoiselle de la Valliere!” exclaimed Manicamp, starting backwards, as if that was the very last name he expected to hear pronounced.
“What makes you start in that manner, Monsieur de Manicamp?” said Madame, ironically; “do you mean to say you would be impertinent enough to suspect that young lady’s honor?”
“Madame, in the whole course of this affair there has not been the slightest question of Mademoiselle de la Valliere’s honor.”