By this time the sun had disappeared, and the air had become cold and raw. Halima shivered. "I shall go in, Henri," she said. "It is getting cold. This country is not like our sunny France." After a moment's pause, she went on complainingly, "Where are your reflections straying to?"
"I was thinking," he replied in an absent tone, "of what I had been reading in the newspaper. I was thinking of the unhappy woman who was Napoleon's wife."
"Of Marie Louise?" she asked.
"No, of Josephine."
"Ah! I might have expected it," she retorted angrily and there was a dangerous light in her eyes, that might have warned him. But it only angered him. He turned upon her sharply.
"You sneer, but she was a noble woman. I am proud to admit that she regarded me with favor. I would have done much for her. But for your devilish ingenuity and persistent malice, I might have saved him for her sake."
"That you could not have done," she answered scornfully, "against my will."
"Pray how?"
"Recall to your mind the eve of the battle of Wagram. Ah! you would have made him believe in her, but for me. Abdallah was my agent, as you know."
St. Just nodded in assent.