“When I saw that the blue domino was not the king,” said the Comte d’Artois, “I believed him to be that nephew of M. de Suffren whom you received so well here the other night.”
The queen colored.
“Did it not look something like his tournure, M. de Taverney?” continued the count.
“I did not remark, monseigneur,” said he, in a choking voice.
“But I soon found out that it was not he; for suddenly I saw him before me, and he was close by you when your mask fell off.”
“So he saw me too?”
“If he were not blind, he did.”
The queen rang.
“What are you about to do?”
“Send for him also, and ask. I will drain this cup to the dregs!”