"Whereas, what do you gain?"
"Well," she replied, raising herself in the bed, while her eyes
sparkled and her colour rose, "if you like, I will tell you.
This pleasure, for one thing--the pleasure of seeing you there,
awkward, booted, stained, and standing, waiting my will. That--
which perhaps you call a petty thing--I gain first of all. Then
I gain your ruin, M. de Rosny; I plant a sting in that woman's
breast; and for his Majesty, he has made his bed and may lie on
it."
"Have a care, madame!" I cried, bursting with indignation at a
speech so shameless and disloyal. "You are playing a dangerous
game, I warn you!"
"And what game have you played?" she replied, transported on a
sudden with equal passion. "Who was it tore up the promise of
marriage which the King gave me? Who was it prevented me being
Queen of France? Who was it hurried on the match with this
tradeswoman, so that the King found himself wedded, before he
knew it? Who was it--but enough; enough!" she cried,
interrupting herself with a gesture full of rage.
Pages:
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164