"Ah, sire, you pain me. You are not yet in the prime of your years, and you speak as though old age were upon you. In a score of years from now it may be time for folk to say that age has made a change in your life."
The king winced. "Who says so?" he cried angrily.
"Oh, sire, it slipped from me unawares. Think no more of it. Nobody says so. Nobody."
"You are hiding something from me. Who is it who says this?"
"Oh, do not ask me, sire."
"You said that it was reported that I had changed my life not through religion, but through stress of years. Who said so?"
"Oh, sire, it was but foolish court gossip, all unworthy of your attention. It was but the empty common talk of cavaliers who had nothing else to say to gain a smile from their ladies."
"The common talk?" Louis flushed crimson.
"Have I, then, grown so aged? You have known me for nearly twenty years. Do you see such changes in me?"
"To me, sire, you are as pleasing and as gracious as when you first won the heart of Mademoiselle Tonnay-Charente."