"Mme. de Châteauroux—listen. I am unfortunately placed. I am anxious to do you the favor you ask; and yet, for political reasons, I am unwilling to incur the displeasure of a powerful man by allowing it to be known that it was I who informed you of his lack of devotion to your cause. You perceive this?"
The Duchess looked thoughtful. The words had been crisply spoken, and had betrayed none of Maurepas' real discomfiture. "Certainly," said she.
"Well, then, regretfully but necessarily, I must impose certain conditions under which, only, will I consent to divulge this matter to you."
"What are the conditions?"
"Ah! They are neither unreasonable nor difficult, madame. As soon as you re-enter Versailles his Majesty will send to you—as he informed me himself—a list of the courtiers' names, which you will have the privilege of revising. Now, madame, if you will give me your word that this man whose identity I am going to reveal shall be dismissed from Versailles simply by means of that list and not with any marked indignity, if you will also assure me that I shall never be mentioned as concerned in the affair in any way, then, madame, I am but too delighted to enlighten you."
There was a pause. La Châteauroux considered. Maurepas, his undiplomatic proposition made, philosophically took snuff. Fortunately, the times when one must place confidence in a woman were rare. They— His incipient meditations were, however, interrupted.
"Monsieur le Marquis—"
"Madame!"
"I agree to your conditions. I give my word."
"You have reflected well?"