"Upon my word, D'Herblay," said Fouquet, "your confidence alarms me more than the king's displeasure. Who can you possibly be, after all?"
"You know me well enough, I should think."
"Of course; but what is it you are aiming at?"
"I wish to see upon the throne of France a king devoted to Monsieur Fouquet, and I wish Monsieur Fouquet to be devoted to me."
"Oh!" exclaimed Fouquet, pressing his hand, "as for belonging to you. I am yours entirely: but believe me, my dear D'Herblay, you are deceiving yourself."
"In what respect?"
"The king will never become devoted to me."
"I do not remember to have said that the king would be devoted to you."
"Why, on the contrary, you have this moment said so."
"I did not say the king: I said a king."