"Well answered!" said a strange voice suddenly. A damask curtain was raised in front of a great panel, which, sliding back into the wall, opened a passage between the two rooms, and showed La Mole in the doorway, like one of Titian's fine portraits in its gilded frame.
"La Mole!" exclaimed Coconnas, without paying any attention to Marguerite or taking the time to thank her for the surprise she had arranged for him; "La Mole, my friend, my dear La Mole!" and he rushed into the arms of his friend, upsetting the armchair in which he had been sitting and the table that stood in his way.
La Mole returned his embrace with effusion; then, turning to the Duchesse de Nevers:
"Pardon me, madame, if the mention of my name has sometimes disturbed your happiness." "Certainly," he added, glancing at Marguerite with a look of ineffable tenderness, "it has not been my fault that I have not seen you sooner."
"You see, Henriette," said Marguerite, "I have kept my word; here he is!"
"Is it, then, to the prayers of Madame la Duchesse that I owe this happiness?" asked La Mole.
"To her prayers alone," replied Marguerite.
Then, turning to La Mole, she continued:
"La Mole, I will allow you not to believe one word of what I say."
Meanwhile Coconnas pressed his friend to his heart over and over again, walked round him a dozen times, and even held a candelabrum to his face the better to see him; then suddenly turning, he knelt down before Marguerite and kissed the hem of her robe.