"The roses
are blooming here which will form the bouquet of Beaumanoir."
"You are of rare ingenuity, Mademoiselle," replied La Corriveau,
admiringly. "If Satan prompts you not, it is because he can teach
you nothing either in love or stratagem."
"Love!" replied Angelique quickly, "do not name that! No! I have
sacrificed all love, or I should not be taking counsel of La
Corriveau!"
Angelique's thoughts flashed back upon Le Gardeur for one regretful
moment. "No, it is not love," continued she, "but the duplicity of
a man before whom I have lowered my pride. It is the vengeance I
have vowed upon a woman for whose sake I am trifled with! It is
that prompts me to this deed! But no matter, shut up the casket, La
Corriveau; we will talk now of how and when this thing is to be
done."
The witch shut up her infernal casket of ebony, leaving the vial of
Brinvilliers shining like a ruby in the lamplight upon the polished
table.
The two women sat down, their foreheads almost touching together,
with their eyes flashing in lurid sympathy as they eagerly discussed
the position of things in the Chateau.
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