"She has a keen eye."
"And if she knew my projects, I am convinced she would never have spoken."
"Oh, monsieur, without counting her natural disposition to that exercise, can we not always make a woman speak? Some one might have said, without any preparation 'Your love for M. de Chanlay will lose your head'—I will wager that she will speak."
"There is no danger—she loves me too much."
"That is the very reason, pardieu! that she would chatter like a magpie, and that we are both caged up. However, let us drop this. What do you do here?"
"Amuse myself."
"Amuse yourself—how?"
"With making verses, eating sweets, and making holes in the floor."
"Holes in the king's boards?" said La Jonquiere. "Oh, oh! that is good to know. Does not M. de Launay scold?"
"He does not know it; besides, I am not singular—everybody makes a hole in something; one his floor, the other his chimney, the next his wall. Do you not make holes in something?"