"So high that you would laugh were I to tell you."
"As she left the private assembly that night I caught the odor of vervain. Perhaps that is what printed her well upon my mind."
"Pretend to yourself that it was attar of roses, and forget her. She will never enter into your life, my good comrade."
"I am merely curious, indifferently curious. It is something to talk about. I daresay that she is pretty. Homely women never flee from anything but mirrors."
"And homely men," laughed the poet. "I am going to see Bouchard for a moment."
Du Puys, D'Hérouville and the vicomte drew their stools around the Chevalier, and discussed politics, religion, and women.
"Why is it that women intrigue?" asked the Chevalier, recalling the grey mask. "Is it because they wish the great to smile on them?"
"No," replied the vicomte; "rather that they wish to smile on the great. Women love secret power, that power which comes from behind the puppet-booth. A man must stand before his audience to appear as great; woman becomes most powerful when her power is not fully known. The king's mistress has ever been the mistress of the king."
"And Marie de Touchet?" asked Du Puys.
"Charles IX was not a fool; he was mad." D'Hérouville smoothed his beard.