“Yes, madame.”
All hearts beat so that you might have heard them.
“Where?” said the queen, in a terrible voice.
Philippe was silent.
“Oh, no concealment, sir! My brother says you saw me at the ball of the Opera.”
“I did, madame.”
The queen sank on a sofa; then, rising furiously, she said:
“It is impossible, for I was not there! Take care, M. de Taverney!”
“Your majesty,” said Andrée, pale with anger, “if my brother says he saw you, he did see you.”
“You also!” cried Marie Antoinette; “it only remains now for you to have seen me. Pardieu! my enemies overwhelm me.”