"I can readily believe you've had no great luck that way," he said spitefully, pretending to take stock of my looks. I knew his remark was sheer malice, for my appearance was good enough—well-figured and slender, with a pleasant, thoughtful face.
"Let us talk of something else," I answered coldly, though I was far from cool in reality.
"Certainly. What do you think of the last conspiracy?"
"That it was very rash and utterly without reason. We have the best king France ever knew."
"Yes, long live Henri IV.! They say there are still some of the malcontents to be gathered in. Have you heard of any fresh arrests?"
"Nothing within two weeks. I don't understand how these affairs can possibly arise, after that of Biron. Men must be complete fools."
"Oh, there are always malcontents who still count on Spain, and some think even the League may be revived."
"But why should they not be contented? I can't imagine any grievances."
"Faith, my child, where have you been hiding yourself? Don't you know the talk? Do you suppose everybody is pleased with this Dutch alliance? And the way in which the King's old Huguenot comrades are again to be seen around him?"
"And why not? Through everything, the King's heart has always been with the protestants."