In dress he was courtly in the extreme. His
doublet and haut-de-chausses were of wine-coloured velvet, richly laced,
and he still affected the hanging sleeves of a fast-disappearing fashion.
Valuable lace filled the tops of his black boots, a valuable jewel
glistened here and there upon his person, and one must needs have
pronounced him a fop but for the strength and resoluteness of his bearing,
and the long rapier that hung from his gold-embroidered baldrick. Such in
brief is a portrait of the man who now confronted me, his fine blue eyes
fixed upon my face, wherein methinks he read but little, search though he
might.
"M. de Luynes," he murmured at last, "you appear to find entertainment in
making enemies, and you do it wantonly."
"Have you brought me aside to instruct me in the art of making friends?"
"Possibly, M. de Luynes; and without intending an offence, permit me to
remark that you need them."
"Mayhap. But I do not seek them."
"I have it in my heart to wish that you did; for I, M. de Luynes, seek to
make a friend of you. Nay, do not smile in that unbelieving fashion.
Pages:
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80