"Philip, I will take you to Court."
Philip crossed one elegantly breeched leg over the other. He was, if anything, a little bored.
"Yes? Next week, perhaps? I am very much engaged until then."
The shrewd eyes twinkled.
"The manner is excellent, my friend. You will like to make your bow to the King."
Philip shrugged.
"Certainly. I trust the King will consider himself sufficiently honoured."
"Sans doute," bowed the Marquis. "But I counsel you, slayer of hearts, to cast your eyes away from la Pompadour."
"M'sieur, I have already told you—"
"Oh, yes. But you have now the name for—slaying of hearts."