"What!" mockingly, "you forgive my attempt at Quebec to coerce you?"
"Frankly, since you did not succeed, Monsieur, I have seen too much of men not to appreciate a brilliant stroke. Had I not torn that paper from your hand, you might have scored at least half a trick. There is a high place somewhere in this world for a man of your wit and courage."
"Mazarin's interpretation of that would be a gibbet on Montfaucon."
"I am offering you friendship, Monsieur." The hand remained extended.
The vicomte bowed, placed his hands behind his back and bowed again. "Friendship and love; oil and water. Madame, when they mix well, I will come in the guise of a friend. Sometimes I've half a mind to tell the Chevalier who you are; for, my faith! it is humorous in the extreme. I understand that you and he were affianced, once upon a time; and here he is, making violent love to you, not knowing your name any more than Adam knew Eve's."
"Very well, then, Monsieur. Since there can be no friendship, there can be nothing. Hereafter you will do me the kindness not to intrude into my affairs."
"Madame, I am a part of your destiny. I told you so long ago."
"I am a woman, and women are helpless." Madame was discouraged. What with that insane D'Hérouville, the Chevalier, and this mocking suitor, her freedom was to prove but small. France, France! "And I am here in exile, Monsieur, innocent of any wrong."
"You are guilty of beautiful eyes."
"I should have thrown myself upon Mazarin's mercy."