"No, I give you my promise!"
"Lerac de la Mole."
"And what do you think of him now?"
"Of Monsieur de la Mole?"
"No, of Monsieur de Coconnas?"
"Faith!" said Marguerite, "I confess I think"—
She stopped.
"Come, come," said the duchess, "I see you are angry with him for having wounded your Huguenot."
"Why, so far," said Marguerite, laughing, "my Huguenot owes him nothing; the slash he gave him under his eye"—
"They are quits, then, and we can reconcile them. Send me your wounded man."