"Oh, monsieur, you overrate my power! And this is not amusing. It is too hot to talk of such things."
"Madame, be merciful! Spare her! She never harmed you."
"What!" And tossing the bird from her she rose to her feet, lithe as a pantheress. So perfectly was she formed that one did not realise how tall she was until she came near; and she was close enough to me now, her eyes flashing with a hundred evil, angry lights.
"She never harmed me? Never hurt me? She! That white-faced provincial, with her airs of virtue, who tried to shame me in public! Look you, I hate that woman! Do you hear? I hate her—hate her! If by the lifting of my little finger I could save her, do you think I would? Never! Let her die! And she shall die, as Philippine de Lune did——"
"Madame!"
"And you!" she burst in, "insolent that you are!—you! who have dared to come here! Think you that you will go free?"
"Enough, madame! I no longer appeal to your pity."
She had half turned from me, and made a step towards the gong as if to strike it, but faced back like lightning, womanlike determined to have the last word.
"Mon Dieu! but this surpasses all."
"Not in the least! I begged for your mercy at first; now I bring to you the Queen's commands."