"So you have seen the marquis, Marie-Anne?"
"Yes."
"Has he been to your house?"
"He was going there, when he met me in the grove on the waste."
She blushed as she spoke; she turned crimson at the thought of Martial's
impertinent gallantry.
This girl who had just emerged from a convent was terribly experienced;
but she misunderstood the cause of Marie-Anne's confusion. She could
dissimulate, however, and when Marie-Anne went away, Mlle. Blanche
embraced her with every sign of the most ardent affection. But she was
almost suffocated with rage.
"What!" she thought; "they have met but once, and yet they are so
strongly impressed with each other. Do they love each other already?"
CHAPTER XIV
If Martial had faithfully reported to Mlle. Blanche all that he heard in
the Marquis de Courtornieu's cabinet, he would probably have astonished
her a little.
He, himself, if he had sincerely confessed his impressions and his
reflections, would have been obliged to admit that he was greatly
amazed.
But this unfortunate man, who, in days to come, would be compelled to
reproach himself bitterly for the excess of his fanaticism, refused
to confess this truth even to himself.
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