"You are very kind. Please—do not let us talk of that. I came here to forget. Come—would you entertain me, monsieur?"
"In whatever way lies in my power."
"Why, then, it is done. It would give me infinite entertainment, monsieur, to hear the life of the ladies of the French Court, where you lived. The doctor has told me what a great Court it is. How do the ladies dress, what do they eat, do they go every night to the assembly? Faith, that would be tiresome enough, I think!"
De Mailly laughed a little at her comment, but did not immediately comply with the request. Memory had once more come home to him again, but this time with a curious addition. Of a sudden he found that he could definitely imagine Deborah Travis as having a place in that French Court that she spoke of. It was a curious notion, and he regarded her for some time contemplatively, before he began to speak.
"If you were in Versailles, Mademoiselle Deborah, you would doubtless be madame."
"What! Are there no unmarried ladies there?"
"Yes—a few. Those who cannot find a husband. But we are supposing that you would not be there unless some grand seigneur had married you and carried you away."
Deborah laughed merrily, and Claude, with some satisfaction, perceived that she had entered into his own spirit. "Continue! continue!" she cried. "I am already perishing with interest."
"You would dwell in an apartment in—we will say the Rue des Rossignols—that is the name of a street. Let us see. You sleep in a charming room hung in white brocade. Your dressing-room will be in pink satin, with the chairs in tapestry which monsieur would have embroidered for you—"
"Monsieur—a man—embroider!"