"Mademoiselle Blanche is a charming girl; oh, yes, she is a charming child,--pretty, very pretty. I defy all your court ladies to have more beautiful eyes, or a fresher mouth, or whiter teeth; and such beautiful hair, black as jet and falling below her knees. And with all that, so sweet, so frank, without the least idea of coquetry. Ah, she is candor, innocence, itself. Of course, she's not yet sixteen years old; but there are many young girls at that age who already listen to lovers. What a pity if such a treasure as that should fall into the claws of a demon! But we shall save her from that. Yes, yes; I'm sure of it. I shall do all that's necessary for that, for it's not enough to watch over a young girl; the devil is so malicious, and all these bachelors, these students, these pages, are so enterprising, without counting the young noblemen, who make no scruple of abducting young girls and women, and for all compensation give a stroke of the sword, or cause to be whipped by their lackeys those who complain of their treatment. Good Saint Marguerite! what a time we live in! One must allow one's self to be outraged, offended, robbed even,--yes, robbed,--for if you should have taken your man in the act, if you demand justice, they will ask you if you yourself were a witness to it. If you say no, they will dismiss the guilty person, and if you say yes, they will first find out if you have the means of paying the expenses of the law, in which case you may have the pleasure of seeing the thief flogged before your door, and that will cost you a heap. But if it is someone with a title who has offended you, it's necessary for you to be silent about it, unless you wish to finish your days at the Bastile or at the Chatelet." Marguerite was silent for some minutes, awaiting a response from her master. Receiving none, she presumed that he tacitly approved of all she was saying, and resumed her discourse.