What have I done to deserve such
perfect happiness? Oh! I love him, and love alone is love's reward.
And yet, I think God means to recompense me for taking heart through
all my misery; he means me to forget my sufferings--for you know,
Francine, I have suffered."
"To-night, Marquise de Montauran, you, Marie? Ah! until it is done I
cannot believe it! Who has told him your true goodness?"
"Dear child! he has more than his handsome eyes to see me with, he has
a soul. If you had seen him, as I have, in danger! Oh! he knows how to
love--he is so brave!"
"If you really love him why do you let him come to Fougeres?"
"We had no time to say one word to each other when the Blues surprised
us. Besides, his coming is a proof of love. Can I ever have proofs
enough? And now, Francine, do my hair."
But she pulled it down a score of times with motions that seemed
electric, as though some stormy thoughts were mingling still with the
arts of her coquetry. As she rolled a curl or smoothed the shining
plaits she asked herself, with a remnant of distrust, whether the
marquis were deceiving her; but treachery seemed to her impossible,
for did he not expose himself to instant vengeance by entering
Fougeres? While studying in her mirror the effects of a sidelong
glance, a smile, a gentle frown, an attitude of anger, or of love, or
disdain, she was seeking some woman's wile by which to probe to the
last instant the heart of the young leader.
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