While the girl looked at the glove for the second time, de Mailly picked up his letter of exile, and sat smoothing it on his knee. Then he asked, unthinkingly: "This letter from the King—will you read it?"
She held out her hand and took the small, worn paper with its red-brown seal and the arms of France upon it. Regarding the fine, crabbed writing, she said, with a faint smile: "I do not easily read French, monsieur."
"Shall I read it to you, then, as well as I can—in English?"
She nodded once more, and he, taking the missive from her hand, cleared his throat and began, with a little effort:
"'Owing to certain circumstances which of late have had the misfortune greatly to displease S.M., the King desires to inform Count Claude Vincent Armand Victor de Nesle de Mailly that the absence of the Count from the château and city of Versailles after the noon of Friday, January 22d, in this year of 1744, will be desirable to S.M.; and that after the first day of the month of February, Monsieur the Count, if he has not already crossed the line of the French Kingdom, would of necessity be placed under the escort of one of his Majesty's officers. The King wishes monsieur a delightful journey, and—'"
Claude's eyes, running on before his tongue, suddenly realized the subject of the next few lines, and he suddenly stopped.
"Go on, monsieur," murmured Deborah, after an instant.
"'GO ON, MONSIEUR,' MURMURED DEBORAH"