“What would you have me say?” she asked, still looking away.
“Oh, you know, you know what I would have you say.”
“I am afraid you will not like the only thing I can say.” She turned, and met his eyes. “I am a married woman, and—I am in love with my husband.”
Ferdinand Augustus stood aghast. “Oh, my God!” he groaned.
“Yes, though he has given me little enough reason to do so, I have fallen in love with him,” she went on pitilessly. “So you must get over your fancy for me. After all, I am a total stranger to you. You do not even know my name.”
“Will you tell me your name?” asked Ferdinand humbly. “It will be something to remember.”
“My name is Marguerite.”
“Marguerite! Marguerite!” He repeated it caressingly. “It is a beautiful name. But it is also the name of the Queen.”
“I am the only person named Marguerite in the Queen’s court,” said she.
“What!” cried Ferdinand Augustus.