Still, I wager,
Chevalier, that the game is not worth the hunt."
"The play is always worth the candle, in my fancy," said he, with a
glance of meaning; "but there is really good game yet in Beaumanoir,
as you will confess, Mademoiselle, if you will honor our party some
day with your presence."
"Come now, Chevalier," replied she, fixing him mischievously with
her eyes, "tell me, what game do you find in the forest of
Beaumanoir?"
"Oh! rabbits, hares, and deer, with now and then a rough bear to try
the mettle of our chasseurs."
"What! no foxes to cheat foolish crows? no wolves to devour pretty
Red Riding Hoods straying in the forest? Come, Chevalier, there is
better game than all that," said she.
"Oh, yes!" he half surmised she was rallying him now--"plenty, but
we don't wind horns after them."
"They say," continued she, "there is much fairer game than bird or
beast in the forest of Beaumanoir, Chevalier." She went on
recklessly, "Stray lambs are picked up by intendants sometimes, and
carried tenderly to the Chateau! The Intendant comprehends a
gentleman's devoirs to our sex, I am sure.
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