Angelique, very agitated in spite of her fierce efforts to appear
calm, bade them come in.
Fanchon opened the door, and, with a courtesy to her mistress,
ushered in La Corriveau, who walked straight into the room and stood
face to face with Angelique.
The eyes of the two women instantly met in a searching glance that
took in the whole look, bearing, dress, and almost the very thoughts
of each other. In that one glance each knew and understood the
other, and could trust each other in evil, if not in good.
And there was trust between them. The evil spirits that possessed
each of their hearts shook hands together, and a silent league was
sworn to in their souls before a word was spoken.
And yet how unlike to human eye were these two women!--how like in
God's eye, that sees the heart and reads the Spirit, of what manner
it is! Angelique, radiant in the bloom of youth and beauty, her
golden hair floating about her like a cloud of glory round a
daughter of the sun, with her womanly perfections which made the
world seem brighter for such a revelation of completeness in every
external charm; La Corriveau, stern, dark, angular, her fine-cut
features crossed with thin lines of cruelty and cunning, no mercy in
her eyes, still less on her lips, and none at all in her heart, cold
to every humane feeling, and warming only to wickedness and avarice:
still these women recognized each other as kindred spirits, crafty
and void of conscience in the accomplishment of their ends.
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