"Your Majesty will also permit me to observe that if the marquise has already betrayed what was intended to remain secret----" "Her boasted reticence can not be very great, you think," interrupted the Queen.

"But justice for all, my handsome lord.

At present she is in any service, and no other.

Whose bread I eat, his song I sing--which in this case means: His secret I keep, and to him I carry whatever I discover.

Besides, this time even the person betrayed owes her a debt of gratitude, for you know how difficult it is for him to use his limbs, and she is most obligingly smoothing the path for him.