Luc paused; the two men were face to face. Luc noted that M. de Richelieu’s handsome eyes were full of amusement. He could not wonder; he smiled too, with his head a little thrown back.
“Who was she?” he asked; “eh, M. le Maréchal?”
The Duke slightly lifted his shoulders.
“I don’t know. She is quite marvellous. She came from”—he opened and threw out his hand—“nothing.”
Luc bowed.
“Adieu, Monsieur. I regret if I have incommoded you by this visit—forgive my ignorance.”
“I am still in your debt,” returned the Duke. “Tell me, now we meet again, is there any way I can serve you?”
He spoke with a winning air of grandeur and perfect courtesy. Luc responded—
“Yes,” he said suddenly, “you can present me to M. de Voltaire.”
“With the best will in the world,” replied M. de Richelieu. “You are, I perceive, already something of a philosopher. Where is your lodging?”