human
If, he said, when at last they were seated in an inn off the new Rue Richelieu to which he had led St. Georges,
gpt
--he continued in an embarrassed manner--
human
But it did--it did, Boussac, it did. He must have pondered on it afterward--perhaps reflected on how unjustly I had been treated by his vile minister, Louvois--you say he died in disgrace?--and that may have--nay, must have, turned his heart. O Boussac! how am I ever to repay you? Without your thought and exertions what should I have been now?
gpt
Oh! la! la! said Boussac,
human
Do! exclaimed St. Georges.
gpt
Do! Why, that which I returned to France to do, fought against France for--obtain my child. Boussac, where is that woman now?
human
Woman!--what woman?
gpt
Ah! Boussac, do not joke. You know very well to what woman I refer. That young tigress--in her way almost as vile as the woman Louvigny!--the woman who stole my child.
human
Mademoiselle de Roquemaure?
gpt
Ay, Mademoiselle de Roquemaure! That is the name. Oh Boussac! you have given me more than my life, far more. The power to wrench my child away from her keeping, to stand before her a freed man, the king's pardon in my hand, and tax her with her treachery.
human
You will do that?
gpt
Do it! What am I going to Troyes for--to-night?
human
Ay, true! True! What are you going to Troyes for? Yet I should have thought, if you recover the child, it is enough. Why--say--bitter words?
gpt
Boussac, you--but, there, you are not a father; you cannot understand all I have suffered in these four years past. Why! man, the galleys, my exile, the death that yawned for me this morning, were easier than the loss of my little one. And, with her dying brother's own confession ringing in my ears still, as it will ring when I stand before her to-morrow, as I hope, you ask me what need I have to reproach her--to utter bitter words?