“Have done,” he interrupted peevishly. “What does it signify? To the devil with Mazarin's plans!”
“So you said this morning.”
“Yes, when I did not even dream her name was Canaples.”
“Nevertheless, she is the wrong Canaples.”
“For my uncle—but, mille diables! sir, 't is I who am to wed, and I shall wed as my heart bids me.”
“Hum! And Mazarin?”
“Faugh!” he answered, with an expressive shrug.
“Well, since you are resolved, let us dine.”
“I have no appetite.”
“Let us dine notwithstanding. Eat you must if you would live; and unless you live—think of it!—you'll never reach Blois.”