"Yea, M. de Berniers, our part of the fighting is over for the present."
"Then why not leave off your fighting dress?" said M. de Berniers. "You look as if you knew nothing of the age we are living in."
"My friend, we live in an age when nobody occupies himself with anything but the pleasures of life. One of the pleasures of my life is to wear a soldier's dress; and you very well know the reason why."
"Don't snarl, M. de Montalvan. Yes, I remember the reason now. Never mind. Some wine; and tell me about the great Duke. Is he really as gallant in the field as in the boudoir?"
"Hum. The great Duc de Richelieu looked on with remarkable bravery while we took St. Philippe. Yes, now that the salons refuse him for a hero, I suppose we must make a place for him in the camp."
"Ah! I have heard why you begrudge the Maréchal his fame. But it matters very little; even Madame de Pompadour has given him her acclamations at last."
"She knows when to hide her hatreds and how to cherish them. But that's a dull subject, M. de Berniers; give me news of home. The Queen?"
"More virtuous than ever."
"And the King?"
"Less."