Henry reflected for a moment, and, as he reflected, a meaning smile curled the corner of his lips.
"Baroness," said he, "you seem to be seeking a quarrel with me, but you have no right to do so. What have you done to prevent me from marrying Madame Marguerite? Nothing. On the contrary, you have always driven me to despair."
"And well for me that I have, monseigneur," replied Madame de Sauve.
"How so?"
"Why, of course, because you are marrying another woman!"
"I marry her because you love me not."
"If I had loved you, sire, I must have died in an hour."
"In an hour? What do you mean? And of what death would you have died?"
"Of jealousy!—for in an hour the Queen of Navarre will send away her women, and your majesty your gentlemen."
"Is that really the thought that is uppermost in your mind, ma mie?"