human
In the name of mercy, Abbé, proceed,
gpt
It is a trifle, a piece of mere common talk,
human
Speak, Abbé,
gpt
Mademoiselle de Merecour----
human
Hélène? all exclaimed in astonishment.
gpt
Proceed--tell us.
human
She is my best friend,
gpt
Mademoiselle de Merecour, he repeated, still delaying.
human
Have you heard why she looked so disdainful at the Queen's Game last evening?
gpt
We never guess your enigmas. Go on.
human
She has need to look brave.
gpt
She is about to marry Monsieur de Sillon, said Cyrène.
human
Perhaps that explains any unusual expression.
gpt
Ah, Monsieur de Sillon--yes, Mademoiselle, Monsieur de Sillon--but, ladies, do you know there is no Monsieur de Sillon?
human
No Monsieur de Sillon?
gpt
Is Monsieur dead?
human
Monsieur de Sillon will never die, Mademoiselle. It is a maxim of the philosophy of Aquinas that what never existed never ceases to exist. What a grand lord was this Monsieur de Sillon! How he bought himself into that colonelship of Dragoons, invented that band uniform, scattered those broad pieces at play, kept that stable of English hunters, and boasted of those interminable ancestries in Burgundy! Well, this Monsieur de Sillon, who rode in the carriages of the King by right of his four centuries of _noblesse_, whose coat bore no less than eighteen fine quarterings, whose crest was an eagle and his betrothed a Merecour, is the son of a tanner of Tours.
gpt
Incredible!
human
Impossible!
gpt
You fable exquisitely!
human
The contract of marriage, they said, had actually been signed by the King----
gpt
Go on, you are a snail!
human
Only then was it discovered that his father had amassed a fortune in ox-skins, that the son had picked up some manners, riding, fencing, and blazonry; none knows how; and that his first introductions were bought and paid for. He is now, some say, in the Bastille, some in Vincennes Dungeon, nobody will ever know exactly which. That is all, ladies.
gpt
Let us thank the saints for Mademoiselle's deliverance!
human
The horror of but touching one of those creatures--those diners in the kitchen!
gpt
Of his daring to approach a lady in marriage!
human
Were she one of _my_ blood, he should die,