Andrea entered the room, knelt down, and taking the head upon her knee, she said:
"Madame, I thank you; this is all I wanted of you."
"But I have something to ask you—won't you forgive me?"
There fell a short silence, as though Andrea were reflecting.
"Yes," she replied, at length, "for I shall be with him on the morrow."
The queen drew a pair of scissors from her bosom, where they were hidden like a weapon to be used in an extremity.
"Then would you kindly—" She spoke almost supplicatingly, as she held out the joined blades to the mourner.
Andrea cut a lock of hair from the corpse's brow, and handed it and the instrument to the other. She caught her hand and kissed it, but Andrea snatched away hers, as though the lips of her royal mistress had scorched her.
"Ah!" muttered the queen, throwing a last glance on the remains, "who can tell which of us loved him the most?"