de Luynes is a wizard," quoth Andrea, laughing, in answer to something
that had been said.
It was afternoon. We had dined, and the bright sunshine and spring-like
mildness of the weather had lured us out upon the terrace. Yvonne and
Genevi?ve occupied the stone seat. Andrea had perched himself upon the
granite balustrade, and facing them he sat, swinging his shapely legs to
and fro as he chatted merrily, whilst on either side of him stood the
Chevalier de Canaples and I.
"If M. de Luynes be as great a wizard in other things as with the sword,
then, pardieu, he is a fearful magician," said Canaples.
I bowed, yet not so low but that I detected a sneer on Yvonne's lips.
"So, pretty lady," said I to myself, "we shall see if presently your lip
will curl when I show you something of my wizard's art."
And presently my chance came. M. de Canaples found reason to leave us, and
no sooner was he gone than Genevi?ve remembered that she had that day
discovered a budding leaf upon one of the rose bushes in the garden below.
Andrea naturally caused an argument by asserting that she was the victim of
her fancy, as it was by far too early in the year.
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