“You would have had, M. Jacques,” she said, “you should have had, if you had wanted.”
“But,” I continued, “you are the most courted lady in Paris. You never mentioned yonder young gentleman.”
“I had no occasion to think of him. He came quite unexpectedly.”
“And he surprised you with Friar Ange?”
“He fancied he saw things which did not occur. He is hot-headed and does not want to listen to any reason.”
The half-opened chemise disclosed under transparent laces a breast swollen like a beautiful fruit and adorned like a budding rose. I took her in my arms and covered her bosom with kisses.
“Heavens!” she exclaimed, “in the street! Before M. d’ Anquetil, who sees us.”
“Who is M. d’Anquetil?”
“Pardi! he is the murderer of Friar Ange. Who else do you fancy he may be?”
“True, Catherine, no others are wanted. Your friends surround you in sufficient numbers.”