He knew it was a bit of acting, and it was well done.
Besides, Jacques Brillon was not a mere servant, and he, too, had done well.

She sat back and laughed lightly when Jacques was gone.

Then she said: "The honest fellow!" and hummed an air: "'The pretty coquette Well she needs to be wise, Though she strike to the heart By a glance of her eyes.
"'For the daintiest bird Is the sport of the storm, And the rose fadeth most When the bosom is warm.'" In twenty minutes the gate of the garden opened, and Jacques appeared with Saracen.

The horse's black skin glistened in the lights, and he tossed his head and champed his bit.

Gaston rose.