She had the time to betray him; she knew of his purpose.

But the thought of betrayal never so much as entered her thoughts.
She hated him, she hated Clementina, but she was loyal to her King.

She sat alone in her palace, her chin propped upon her hands, and in a little in her wide unblinking eyes the tears gathered again and rolled down her cheeks and on her hands.

She wept silently and without a movement, like a statue weeping.
The Chevalier found Whittington waiting for him, but the candle in his lantern had burned out.
"I have kept you here a wearisome long time," he said with an effort.

It was not easy for him to speak upon an indifferent matter.
"I had some talk with Major Gaydon which helped me to beguile it," said Whittington.
"Gaydon!" exclaimed the Chevalier, "are you certain ?" "A man may make mistakes in the darkness," said Whittington.
"To be sure." "And I never had an eye for faces." "It was not Gaydon, then ?" said the Chevalier.
"It may not have been," said Whittington, "and by the best of good fortune I said nothing to him of any significance whatever." The Chevalier was satisfied with the reply.