He at
once turned to Anne and recounted an anecdote relating to her
distinguished grandsire. But covertly he watched madame; watched the
half-drooping eyelids, the shadow of a dimple in her left cheek, the
curving throat, the shimmering ringlet which half obscured the perfect
ear. He had seen this face before, or one as like it as the reflection
of the moon upon placid water is like the moon itself. Now and then he
frowned, remembering his purpose. But why was this young woman, who
was fit to grace a palace, why was she here incognito? Ah!
"Madame, have you met Monsieur le Chevalier du Cevennes, my son?"
Anne trembled for her friend.
"I have noticed him, Monsieur. Is he anything like you, as you were in
your youth?" It was admirable, but not even Anne dreamed of the
delicacy of the thread which held together madame's tones.
"Modesty compels me to remain silent," replied the marquis.
"And how goes Mazarin's foreign policy?" asked De Lauson.
"Politics is a weed which I have cast out of my garden, your
Excellency," said the marquis, laughing.
Madame had a grateful thought for the governor, and she regretted that
she could not express it aloud.
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