"Now that we are alone," said she, "let us talk seriously, my very dear friend."
"Seriously, madame," said La Mole.
"Or lovingly. Does that please you better? But there can be serious things in love, and especially in the love of a queen."
"Then—let us talk of serious things; but on condition that your majesty will not be vexed at the lighter things I have to say to you."
"I shall be vexed only at one thing, La Mole, and that is if you address me as 'madame' or 'your majesty.' For you, my beloved, I am just Marguerite."
"Yes, Marguerite! Yes, Margarita! Yes, my pearl!" cried the young man, devouring the queen with his eyes.
"Yes, that is right," said Marguerite. "So you are jealous, my fine gentleman?"
"Oh! unreasonably."
"Still?"
"Madly, Marguerite."