The eager persistence of Angelique, in her demand for a lettre de
cachet to banish the unfortunate Caroline, had wearied and somewhat
disgusted Bigot.
"I would cut the throat of any man in the world for the sake of her
bright eyes," said he to himself, as she gave him a parting salute
with her handkerchief; "but she must not ask me to hurt that poor
foolish girl at Beaumanoir. No, by St. Picot! she is hurt enough
already, and I will not have Angelique tormenting her! What
merciless creatures women are to one another, Cadet!" said he,
aloud.
Cadet looked up with red, inflamed eyes at the remark of Bigot. He
cared nothing for women himself, and never hesitated to show his
contempt for the whole sex.
"Merciless creatures, do you call them, Bigot! the claws of all the
cats in Caen could not match the finger-nails of a jealous woman--
still less her biting tongue."
Angelique des Meloises swept past the two in a storm of music, as if
in defiance of their sage criticisms. Her hand rested on the
shoulder of the Chevalier de Pean.
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