The cardinal laid his hat on the table, and, looking at Jeanne, began: “It is, then, true, mademoiselle——”
“Madame,” interrupted Jeanne.
“Pardon me; I forgot.”
“My husband is called De la Motte, monseigneur.”
“Oh, yes; a gendarme, is he not?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you, madame, are a Valois?”
“I am, monseigneur.”
“A great name,” said the cardinal, “but rare—believed extinct.”
“Not extinct, sir, since I bear it, and as I have a brother, Baron de Valois.”