"My God, Angelique, you drive this matter hard, but I like you
better so than when you are in your silkiest humor."
"Bigot, it were better you had granted my request." Angelique
clenched her fingers hard together, and a cruel expression lit her
eyes for a moment. It was like the glance of a lynx seeking a
hidden treasure in the ground: it penetrated the thick walls of
Beaumanoir! She suppressed her anger, however, lest Bigot should
guess the dark imaginings and half-formed resolution which brooded
in her mind.
With her inimitable power of transformation she put on her air of
gaiety again and exclaimed,--"Pshaw! let it go, Bigot. I am really
no politician, as you say; I am only a woman almost stifled with the
heat and closeness of this horrid ballroom. Thank God, day is
dawning in the great eastern window yonder; the dancers are
beginning to depart! My brother is waiting for me, I see, so
I must leave you, Chevalier."
"Do not depart just now, Angelique! Wait until breakfast, which
will be prepared for the latest guests.
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