Madame de Sauve took advantage of a moment when Catharine was listening to one of the discourses to approach the Queen of Navarre, and beg leave to kiss her hand. Marguerite extended her arm toward her, and Madame de Sauve, as she kissed the queen's hand, slipped a tiny roll of paper up her sleeve.
Madame de Sauve drew back quickly and with clever dissimulation; yet Catharine perceived it, and turned round just as the maid of honor was kissing Marguerite's hand.
The two women saw her glance, which penetrated them like a flash of lightning, but both remained unmoved; only Madame de Sauve left Marguerite and resumed her place near Catharine.
When Catharine had finished replying to the address which had just been made to her she smiled and beckoned the Queen of Navarre to go to her.
"Eh, my daughter," said the queen mother, in her Italian patois, "so you are on intimate terms with Madame de Sauve, are you?"
Marguerite smiled in turn, and gave to her lovely countenance the bitterest expression she could, and replied:
"Yes, mother; the serpent came to bite my hand!"
"Aha!" replied Catharine, with a smile; "you are jealous, I think!"
"You are mistaken, madame," replied Marguerite; "I am no more jealous of the King of Navarre than the King of Navarre is in love with me, but I know how to distinguish my friends from my enemies. I like those that like me, and detest those that hate me. Otherwise, madame, should I be your daughter?"
Catharine smiled so as to make Marguerite understand that if she had had any suspicion it had vanished.