“Rene de Artigny!” I exclaimed pleasantly, and then laughed. “Why how ridiculous you are, Monsieur. Better be jealous of Père Allouez yonder, for of him I see far the most. Why do you pick out De Artigny on whom to vent your anger?”
“I like not the way he eyes you, nor your secret meetings with him in Quebec.”
“If he even sees me I know it not, and as for secret meetings, knew you not that Sister Celeste was with me while we talked.”
“Not in the Governor’s palace.”
“You accuse me of that then,” indignantly. “Because I am your wife, you can insult, yet it was your hand that drew aside the curtain, and found me alone. Do you hope to gain my respect by such base charges as that, Monsieur?”
“Do you deny that he had been with you?”
“I? Do I deny! It is not worthy my while. Why should I? We were not married then, nor like to be to my knowledge. Why, then, if I wished, was it not my privilege to speak with the Sieur de Artigny? I have found him a very pleasant, and polite young man.”
“A pauper, his only fortune the sword at his side.”
“Ah, I knew not even that he possessed one. Yet of what interest can all this be to me, Monsieur, now that I am married to you?”