The marquise divined in a single glace the whole weight of the unhappiness of the superintendent.

She divined a night passed without sleep, a day passed in deceptions.

From that moment she was firm in her own strength, and she felt that she loved Fouquet beyond everything else.

She arose and approached him, saying, "You wrote to me this morning to say you were beginning to forget me, and that I, whom you had not seen lately, had no doubt ceased to think of you.

I have come to undeceive you, monsieur, and the more completely so, because there is one thing I can read in your eyes." "What is that, madame ?" said Fouquet, astonished.
"That you have never loved me so much as at this moment; in the same manner you can read, in my present step towards you, that I have not forgotten you." "Oh! madame," said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy, "you are indeed an angel, and no man can suspect you.