Dollard led his wife to this silent figure.
“My dear Renée,” he said, taking hold of the stole and thereby establishing a nerve of communication, “let me present my beautiful wife.”
The figure looked up, unsurprised but attentive.
“She was Mademoiselle Laval-Montmorency.”
With deference the figure rose off its slim-legged chair and made a deep courtesy, Claire acknowledging it with one equally deep.
“Mademoiselle,” petitioned the bride, “I hope my sudden coming causes you no trouble, though we return to the fort soon.”
The mask gazed at her but said nothing.
“Are you never lonely here upon this island?” pursued Claire.
The mask’s steady gaze made her shiver.
“She does not talk,” Dollard explained. He drew his wife away from the silent woman and suggested, “Let us walk up and down until some supper is served, to get rid of the boat’s cramping.”