Even if it were a third person, how openly she would speak to him; the royal presence would not be there to freeze her words upon her tongue, and then no suspicious feeling would remain a moment longer in the king's heart.
Everything with La Valliere, heart and look, body and mind, was concentrated in eager expectation.

She said to herself that there was an hour left in which to indulge hope; that until midnight had struck, the king might come, or write, or send; that at midnight only would every expectation be useless, every hope lost.

Whenever there was any noise in the palace, the poor girl fancied she was the cause of it; whenever she heard any one pass in the courtyard below, she imagined they were messengers of the king coming to her.

Eleven o'clock struck; then a quarter past eleven: then half-past.

The minutes dragged slowly on in this anxiety, and yet they seemed to pass far too quickly.