"The man I would have you look at, madame, you scarcely notice."
"Why should I notice him? He pays little attention to me."
"Ah, he is not one of your danglers, madame. He would not look at another man's wife. He has had trouble himself."
"So will you have if you scorch the backs of your legs," observed
Archange.
Louizon stood obstinately on the stool and ignored the heat. He was in the act of stepping down, but he checked it as she spoke.
"Monsieur de Repentigny came back to this country to marry a young
English lady of Quebec. He thinks of her, not of you."
"I am sure he is welcome," murmured Archange. "But it seems the young
English lady prefers to stay in Quebec."
"She never looked at any other man, madame. She is dead."
"No wonder. I should be dead, too, if I had looked at one stupid man all my life."
Louizon's eyes sparkled. "Madame, I will have you know that the seignior of Sault Ste. Marie is entitled to your homage."