The Marquise rebuked him half seriously, but he only
laughed.
"To-night," he said, "is the end of a great adventure. We amateurs have
justified our existence. To-night I give away all that I choose. Ah,
Angele!" he murmured, in her dainty little ear, "if I had but a heart to
give!"
She flashed a quick smile into his face, but her forehead was wrinkled.
"You have lost it to the young English miss. She is beautiful, but so
cold!"
"Do you think so?" he whispered. "Look!"
Phyllis was seated next Duncombe, and he too was whispering something in
her ear. The look with which she answered him, told all that there was
to know. The Marquise, who had intercepted it, shrugged her shoulders.
"It is not worth while, my friend, that you break your heart," she
murmured, "for that one can see is an affair arranged."
He nodded.
"After all," he said, "the true Frenchman loves only in his own
country."
"Or in any other where he may chance to be," she answered drily. "Never
mind, Henri! I shall not let you wander very far. Your supper-party has
been delightful--but you see the time!"
They trooped down the narrow stairs laughing and talking.
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