Still, all this was irritating to her.

She was so accustomed to the gaps of the saint who was piercing the dragon with his sword, and of the royal princess as she led the conquered beast along with her scarf, that she already mourned as if one had the intention of mutilating them.

It was sacrilege to think of changing such old, venerable things.

But when she returned to the field after her lunch, all her angry feelings passed away immediately; for a second workman was upon the staging, a young man this time, who also wore a white blouse.

And she recognised him! It was he! Her hero! Gaily, without any embarrassment, Angelique resumed her place on her knees on the straw of her box.