“You are a friend of the Countess, mademoiselle?”
“Absolutely, monsieur.”
“Well,” said Camus, with an air of the greatest ingenuousness, “I have not been her friend. I have never been her enemy, still, I must confess I have not been her friend in the strict sense of the word. Court life is like a game of chess, and I daresay you are aware that, during the last few days, a great game of chess has been going forward between my friend Choiseul and the Countess. I was on Choiseul’s side all through it; I even helped in some of the moves. She won, and I must say her courage has made me her admirer.”
“And not her friend?”
“Mademoiselle, I am the friend of Monsieur de Choiseul, and I do not easily separate myself from my friends. Still, I am content to remain his friend, and yet to stand aside and take no part in any further move that he may make against the Countess.”
“And why, monsieur, do you impose this inaction upon yourself?”
“Simply for this reason. I cannot take an active part in any move against a person who is a friend of yours.”
“Ah, you ask me a question now that is very difficult to answer.”
“How so?”