"Gabrielle, you are not angry at me? I was only jesting."

"No, Anne; I am angry at myself. My vanity is still young and green,
and I can not yet separate Monsieur du Cévennes from the boot-heel
which ground upon my likeness. No woman with any pride would forgive
an affront like that; and I am both proud and unforgiving."

"I can understand, Gabrielle. You ought not to have joined me. By now
you would have been in Navarre or in Spain."

"And lonely, lonely, lonely!" with a burst of tenderness, throwing her
arms round Anne again and kissing her. "I must go; I shall weep if I
remain."

Half an hour later an orderly announced to his Excellency the governor
that a lady desired to see him.

"Admit her at once," said De Lauson. "Mademoiselle," when madame stood
before him, "am I to have the happiness of being of service to you?
Or, is it 'madame' instead of 'mademoiselle'?"

"I have promised to disclose my identity in time, your Excellency.
However, I shall not object to 'madame.' Monsieur, I am about to ask
you a question which I shall request not to be repeated."

The governor, looking at her with open admiration, recalled the days
when, as a student, he had conjured up in his own mind the faces of the
goddesses. This face represented neither Venus nor Pallas; rather the
lithe-limbed huntress who forswore marriage for the chase.