Diane de Poitiers checked her laugh. "For the simple reason that the house of Châtillon has become wise over D'Andelot's affair, and will not set foot in Paris. As for Vendôme, he must be dealt with differently." And her dark eyes flashed ominously.
"Put the tablets aside for the present," Simon cut in, "and let us not argue. We each form an angle of a triangle, and the triangle will be nothing at all if one of the angles is taken away. Let us discuss measures; we will take the names after. How did my proposal go at the council to-day?"
"Approved," said De Mouchy. "And the Chambre Ardente can act whenever the said court thinks fit."
"That is, when you, as president, think fit?"
"Precisely, Monsieur le Vidame."
"This, however, is not enough," Simon went on. "Another little suggestion of mine, the suspension of the edicts, made, possibly, by madame's merciful intercession with the King, has borne good fruit, and Paris is full of heretics. But I presume that it is neither their bodies nor their souls that we desire." And he looked at his two companions.
De Mouchy preserved a scowling silence, but with a flush on her face the Duchess said:
"I do not follow you, monsieur. We are good Christians, and we work for Holy Church."
Simon leaned back, his knee between his clasped hands, and laughed a bitter, mocking laugh.
"Eternal Blue! For Holy Church! Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! Madame, those sweet lips of yours drop pearls of wisdom." And he rocked to and fro.