Turning to the right, under a great willow-tree, she had only to put out her hands to have them earnestly grasped by Felicien, whom she knew would be there in waiting for her.
For a minute, without speaking, Angelique pressed Felicien's hands in hers.

They could not see each other, for the sky was covered with a misty cloud of heat, and the pale moon which had just risen, had not yet lighted it up.

At length she spoke in the darkness, her heart filled to overflowing with her great happiness: "Oh, my dear seigneur, how I love you, and how grateful I am to you!" She laughed aloud at the realisation of the fact that at last she knew him; she thanked him for being younger, more beautiful, and richer even than she had expected him to be.

Her gaiety was charming; it was a cry of astonishment and of gratitude before this present of love, this fulfillment of her dreams.
"You are the king.

You are my master; and lo! here am I, your slave.