"I have thought of that, also; but this poor Monsieur de Menneval."...
"Very good," exclaimed the King, laughing: "now I see to what purpose the oranges are destined. Monsieur de Menneval pleases you; Monsieur de Beaugency would suit you just as well; and since one can't have more than one husband, you make them each jump in turn."
"Just so, Sire. But observe what happens."
"Ah, what does happen?"
"That, unwilling and unable to play unfairly, I take equal pains to catch the two oranges as they come down; and that I catch them both, each time."
"Well, are you willing that I should take part in your game?"
"You, Sire? Ah, what a joke that would be!"
"I am very clumsy, Marchioness. To a certainty, in less than three minutes Beaugency and Menneval, will be rolling on the floor."
"Ah!" exclaimed the lady; "and if you have any preference for one or the other?"
"No; we'll do better. Look, I take the two oranges ... you mark them carefully—or, better still, you stick into one of them one of these toilet pins, making up your own mind which of the two is to represent Monsieur de Beaugency, and leaving me, on that point, entirely in the dark. If Monsieur de Beaugency touches the floor, you shall marry his rival; if it happen just otherwise, you shall resign yourself to become an ambassadress."