“His Majesty lives at Versailles.”
“Yes, but you live here.”
“Oh! So it is you who wished to entrust me with a message.”
“Madame, I beg you to believe—”
“Do not trouble yourself, you are not the first. But why do you address yourself to me? I am but a woman—like any other.”
As she uttered these words with a somewhat ironical air, the marquise threw a triumphant look upon the letter she had just read.
“Madame,” continued the chevalier, “I have always heard that men exercise power, and that women—”
“Guide it, eh? Well, monsieur, there is a queen of France.”
“I know it, madame; that is how it happened that I found myself here this morning.”
The marquise was more than accustomed to such compliments, though they were generally made in a whisper; but, in the present circumstances, this appeared to be quite singularly gratifying to her.