"Do you dare to say I was wrong?"
"Not so, monseigneur: you have done wonders; not wishing to have anything to do with the infamous Dubois, for which I commend you, you—the archbishop of Cambray being dead—have taken in his place the good, the worthy, the pure Nocé, and have borrowed his house."
"Ah!" said the regent, "you know that?"
"And what a house! Pure as its master—yes, monseigneur, you are full of prudence and wisdom. Let us conceal the corruptions of the world from this innocent child, let us remove from her everything that can destroy her primitive naïveté; this is why we choose this dwelling for her—a moral sanctuary, where the priestesses of virtue, and doubtless always under pretext of their ingenuousness, take the most ingenuous but least permitted of positions."
"Nocé told me that all was proper."
"Do you know the house, monseigneur?"
"Do I look at such things?"
"Ah! no; your sight is not good, I remember."
"Dubois!"
"For furniture your daughter will have strange couches, magic sofas; and as to books, ah! that is the climax. Nocé's books are good for the instruction and formation of youth; they would do well to go with the breviary of Bussy-Rabutin, of which I presented you a copy on your twelfth birthday."