"Do not touch it!" said she quickly; "I have set my life and soul on
a desperate venture, but my hair--I have devoted it to our Lady of
St. Foye; it is hers, not mine! Do not touch it, Dame Dodier."
Angelique was thinking of a vow she had once made before the shrine
of the little church of Lorette. "My hair is the one thing
belonging to me that I will keep pure," continued she; "so do not be
angry with me," she added, apologetically.
"I am not angry," replied La Corriveau, with a sneer. "I am used to
strange humors in people who ask my aid; they always fall out with
themselves before they fall in with La Corriveau."
"Do you know why I have sent for you at this hour, good Dame
Dodier?" asked Angelique, abruptly.
"Call me La Corriveau; I am not good Dame Dodier. Mine is an ill
name, and I like it best, and so should you, Mademoiselle, for the
business you sent me for is not what people who say their prayers
call good. It was to find your lost jewels that Fanchon Dodier
summoned me to your abode, was it not?" La Corriveau uttered this
with a suppressed smile of incredulity.
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