I bowed my best bow as the Chevalier presented me, and from the corner of
my eye, with inward malice, I watched them as I did so. Genevi?ve curtsied
with a puzzled air and a sidelong glance at her sister. Yvonne accorded me
the faintest, the coldest, inclination of her head, whilst her cheeks
assumed a colour that was unwonted.
"We have met before, I think, Monsieur," she said disdainfully.
"True, Mademoiselle--once," I answered, thinking only of the coach.
"Twice, Monsieur," she corrected, whereupon I recalled how she had
surprised me with my arm about the waist of the inn-keeper's daughter, and
had Heaven given me shame I might have blushed. But if sweet Yvonne
thought to bring Gaston de Luynes to task for profiting by the good things
which God's providence sent his way, she was led by vanity into a
prodigious error.
"Twice, indeed, Mademoiselle. But the service which you rendered me upon
the first occasion was so present to my mind just now that it eclipsed the
memory of our second meeting. I have ever since desired, Mademoiselle,
that an opportunity might be mine wherein to thank you for the preservation
of my life.
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