"What matters it? You have your mask."
"He may recognize me by my hair, my hands, a jewel."
"How cautious she is since she has been married, my pretty queen!"
Marguerite smiled.
"Well," continued the duchess, "I see only one way."
"What is that?"
"To look through the keyhole."
"Very well! take me to the door."
The duchess took Marguerite by the hand and led her to a door covered with tapestry; then bending one knee, she applied her eye to the keyhole.
"’Tis all right; he is sitting at table, with his face turned toward us; come!"