“Your cousin Louis, Highness,” she said under her breath.
Now he turned his head and fixed on her his compelling gaze.
“The King of France,” she repeated.
“I have always hoped to deserve His Majesty’s friendship,” said William formally.
Madame Lavalette fixed his eyes with her glance.
“Will you not be more frank with me, Prince?” she said in a low voice.
“In what manner, Madame?”
“Ah, you know,” she leant towards him, “I speak of the King of France—you know what he can do for you.…”
William moved his head so that the heavy auburn hair concealed his face. She thought that he still looked at M. de Witt.