She bent down, lower and lower, regardless of the people about her. Yes, there was now no doubt at all, for inside the pale gold lid were engraved the words: “Mon cœur à toi. Ma vie au Roi.”
But so little do those about us realise of what we are thinking that only Hercules Popeau noticed the girl’s agitation. As for Beppo, he laughed and said: “Yes, these are what would be called in England midget cigarettes, are they not?”
It was clear that he had taken Lily’s exclamation of surprise as an involuntary tribute to the daintiness of the quaint little cigarettes which filled the one-time snuff-box. Lily was too surprised and disturbed to speak: the sight of the gold box had brought with it a rush of painful, distressing memories.
Hercules Popeau leant forward.
“You have there, my dear Count, a most delightful and valuable cigarette-case,” he observed suavely. “If I mistake not, it is an exquisite specimen of late eighteenth-century work. I remember once seeing a curio extremely like this in a collection of pathetic little objects which had belonged to Mme. du Barri. The snuff-box in question had been given to her by King Louis the Fifteenth. May I look at it for a moment?”
“Of course!” said Count Beppo courteously.
He pushed the box across the table, and M. Popeau took it up and examined it closely.
“I see,” he said at last, “that it is not as I first thought! This box is of rather later workmanship than I supposed. It was probably made during the Revolution. Is it not strange to think that these costly and exquisite objects were being fashioned even at such a time as that?”
He was obviously talking to give Lily time to recover her composure.
And then the Countess broke in: “My son is very clever at picking up pretty things,” she said, smiling. “He bought that little box at an old curiosity shop for a mere song—not that one gets very much nowadays anywhere for a mere song! Is it not true,” she said, turning to Beppo, “that the man who sold it to you said it was but silver gilt?”