"It is true, sire, and I ask your pardon," said Marguerite, smiling.
"Ma mie, you are right, public report often lies, and we sovereigns have great reason to establish this theory;" and he laughed ironically.
"Well; and Fosseuse?" said Marguerite.
"She is ill, ma mie, and the doctors do not understand her malady."
"That is strange, sire. Fosseuse, who you say is a pearl of purity, ought to allow the doctors to penetrate into the secret of her illness."
"Alas! it is not so."
"What!" cried the queen; "is she not a pearl of purity?"
"I mean that she persists in hiding the cause of her illness from the doctors."
"But to you, sire, her confidant, her father."
"I know nothing, or at least wish to know nothing."