"You know me well, sire."
"Yes. Then you will go and see Fosseuse?"
"Yes, sire."
"And separate her from the others?"
"Yes, sire."
"And send her your doctor?"
"Yes, sire."
"And if, unluckily, what you say were true, and she had been weak, for women are frail—"
"Well, sire, I am a woman, and know the indulgence due to my sex."
"All! you know all things, ma mie; you are in truth a model of perfection, and I kiss your hands."