“Then, countess, bring me a proof—does she love me at all?”
“It is very simple,” replied Jeanne, pointing to his writing table, “to ask her.”
“You will give her a note?”
“Who else would, if not I?”
“And you will bring me an answer?”
“If possible.”
“Ah! now you are a good creature, countess.”
He sat down, but though he was an eloquent writer, he commenced and destroyed a dozen sheets of paper before he satisfied himself.
“If you go on so, you will never have done,” said Jeanne.
“You see, countess, I fear my own tenderness, lest I displease the queen.”