'And this purpose?'
He smiled, and insolently surveyed me from head to foot.
'Count de Bitche, I demand to be liberated, or to be treated with the courtesy usually allotted to a prisoner of war. My parole—'
'Liberated! that you may go back to Paris, and coquette with the King's mistress, to sup in her boudoir, to toy with her full fair arms, her chestnut hair, and adjust the sachet à la violette in her bosom! Bah! Pardieu, my fine fellow, you shall have no such indulgence. So, so, among your papers I have the honour to find a letter from Mademoiselle de Lorraine.
'Insolent!'
'Well, I have something to propose, which, from the tenor of that letter, must, I presume, afford you pleasure.
'Indeed!' said I, reading the wicked sneer of his heart in his eyes; 'how kind of you, M. le Comte!'
'Very!'
'And this proposition—out with it.'
'Is merely that you should answer that letter.'