"You call me rightly a miserable sinner," said he, half smiling, as
one not very miserable although a sinner. "If love of fair women
be a sin, I am one of the greatest of sinners; and in your fair
presence, Angelique, I am sinning at this moment enough to sink a
shipload of saints and angels!"
"You have sunk me in my own and the world's estimation, if you mean
what you say, Bigot!" replied she, unconsciously tearing in strips
the fan she held in her hand. "You love all women too well ever to
be capable of fixing your heart upon one!" A tear, of vexation
perhaps, stood in her angry eye as she said this, and her cheek
twitched with fierce emotion.
"Come, Angelique!" said he, soothingly, "some of our guests have
entered this alley. Let us walk down to the terrace. The moon is
shining bright over the broad river, and I will swear to you by St.
Picaut, my patron, whom I never deceive, that my love for all
womankind has not hindered me from fixing my supreme affection upon
you."
Angelique allowed him to press her hand, which he did with fervor.
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