"
"And her restoration to her distracted husband?"
"Just so," the priest assented, acquiring confidence, I thought.
"And Madame desires to go?"
"Surely! Why not?"
"Well," the Vidame drawled, his manner such as to bring the blood
to Madame de Pavannes' cheek, "it depends on the person who--to
use your phrase, M. le Coadjuteur--spirited her hither."
"And that," Madame herself retorted, raising her head, while her
voice quivered with indignation and anger, "was the Abbess of the
Ursulines. Your suspicions are base, worthy of you and unworthy
of me, M. le Vidame! Diane!" she continued sharply, taking her
sister's arm, and casting a disdainful glance at Bezers, "let us
go. I want to be with my husband. I am stifled in this room."
"We are going, little one," Diane murmured reassuringly. But I
noticed that the speaker's animation, which had been as a soul to
her beauty when she entered the room, was gone. A strange
stillness was it fear of the Vidame? had taken its place.
"The Abbess of the Ursulines?" Bezers continued thoughtfully.
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