“It is the King’s gift,” she corrected calmly. For a minute or two they surveyed each other.
“What is it?” she demanded of the servant who had entered.
“The superintendent of police awaits the commands of Madame la Marquise.”
“Let him enter,” she said, resuming her seat and quietly ignoring André.
His anger grew hot again as he observed how she took for granted the official’s humble obedience.
“Study that lampoon,” she said, tossing him a fly-sheet. “You must discover the author and have him punished.”
“But it is impossible, Madame,” the superintendent replied after a pause. “I have no power to arrest, still less to punish, the ladies and gentlemen of Versailles.”
“It comes from the palace, then?”
“It does not come from Paris,” the official answered drily.
She placed the paper in a drawer. For a few seconds the look in her eyes was terrible. “You have the other information I required?” she asked.