"It's my way; and why shouldn't I give my opinion?"
Wetter laughed, and said to the Frenchman:
"You had better not ask for your character, I think, Vicomte."
"Heavens, no!" cried he. "Come, I see Monseigneur all alone!"
"You are right," said Coralie. "Go and talk to him. The King and I will talk."
They went off, Wetter laughing, Varvilliers still a little ruffled by his encounter. Coralie passed her arm through mine and led me to a sofa. I had recovered my composure, was interested, and amused.
"Briande," she said suddenly, "is always deploring my stupidity. 'How will you get on,' she says, 'without wit? Men are ruled by wit though they are won by faces.' So she says. Well, I don't know. Wit is not in my line." She looked at me half questioningly, half defiantly.
"I perceive no deficiency in the quality, mademoiselle," said I.
"Then you have not known witty women," she retorted tranquilly. "But I am not altogether dull. I am not like Monseigneur there."
"My brother-in-law?"
"So I am told."
As she said this she looked again at me and began to laugh. I laughed also. But I could not very well discuss William Adolphus with her.
"What man do you desire to rule with this wit?" I asked.
"One can't tell when it might be useful," said she, with a barely perceptible smile.
"Surely beauty is more powerful?"
"With Monseigneur?"
