“Bah! indeed? That is scarcely credible. I thought little Colbert, as you said just now, had passed over that love, and left the impression upon it of a spot of ink or a stain of grease.”
“Fouquet! Fouquet! Is this the way you always treat the poor creatures you desert?”
“Why, you surely are not going to undertake the defense of Madame Vanel?”
“Yes, I will undertake it: for, I repeat, she loves you still, and the proof is she saves you.”
“But your interposition, marquise; that is very cunning on her part. No angel could be more agreeable to me, or could lead me more certainly to salvation. But, let me ask you do you know Marguerite?”
“She was my convent friend.”
“And you say that she has informed you that Monsieur Colbert was named intendant?”
“Yes, she did.”
“Well, enlighten me, marquise; granted Monsieur Colbert is intendant—so be it. In what can an intendant, that is to say my subordinate, my clerk, give me umbrage or injure me, even if he is Monsieur Colbert?”
“You do not reflect, monsieur, apparently,” replied the marquise.