"I take an appeal to Monsieur Le Docteur--is not madame young and
beautiful?" asked the Frenchman, turning to Traverse, while the
splendid, black eyes of the stranger passed from the one to the
other.
Traverse caught the glance of the lady and bowed gravely. It was the
most delicate and proper reply.
She smiled almost as gravely, and with a much kinder expression than
any she had bestowed upon the Frenchman.
"And how has madame fared during my absence so long? The servants--
have they been respectful? Have they been observant? Have they been
obedient to the will of madame? Madame has but to speak!" said the
doctor, bowing politely.
"Why should I speak when every word I utter you believe, or affect
to believe, to be the ravings of a maniac? I will speak no more,"
said the lady, turning away her superb dark eyes and looking out of
the window.
"Ah, madame will not so punish her friend, her servant, her slave!"
A gesture of fierce impatience and disgust was the only reply
deigned by the lady.
"Come away; she is angry and may become dangerously excited," said
the old doctor, leading the way from the cell.
"Did you tell me this lady is one of the incurables?" inquired
Traverse, when they had left her apartment.
"Bah! yes, poor girl, vera incurable, as my sister would say."
"Yet she appears to me to be perfectly sane, as well as exceedingly
beautiful and interesting.
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