THE LOVE OF MONSIEUR
presumption and indignity? How should I have known?”
“Madame’s advisers—”
“Do not speak of them,” she interrupted. “It is past. The proofs were brought me. That is all. Why need you know more?”
“Captain Ferrers?” he said, insinuatingly.
“Yes, he!” She drew herself to her full height, and he could not fail to mark the lofty look of scorn that curved her lips and brow. “All London learned of the story of your escape. My agents were told that the vessel upon which you had fled was in the American trade. And so I sought service where I might best reach you. Thank God, my quest has not been in vain!”
“Madame sought service?” he said, in a wonder which vied with his cold assumption of apathy.
“I sought service with the Señorita de Batteville, monsieur,” she continued, with a proud lift of the chin, “in the capacity of waiting-woman and duenna.”
The words fell with cruel import upon his
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