The duke made a grimace which he intended to pass off for an ironical smile. "And the two pillows?" he said. "Pray, is it monseigneur's intention to return to Libourne? In that case, my dream lied to me, for it told me that monseigneur would remain." The duke made a second grimace even more significant than the first. "And this charming _négligé_, madame? And these exquisite perfumes?" "It is one of those I am accustomed to wear when I expect monseigneur. The perfume comes from sachets of _peau d'Espagne_, which I put in my wardrobes, and which monseigneur has often told me he preferred to all others, because it is the queen's favorite perfume." "And so you were expecting me?" rejoined the duke, with a sneering laugh. "Good lack, monseigneur," said Nanon, frowning; "I believe, God forgive me, that you would like to look in the closets. Are you jealous by any chance?" Nanon laughed aloud, whereat the duke assumed his most majestic air. "I, jealous? No, no! Thank God, I'm no such idiot as that. Being old and rich, I know naturally that I was made to be deceived, but I propose to prove to those who deceive me that I am not their dupe." "How will you prove it, pray? I am curious to know." "Oh! it will be an easy matter. I shall simply have to show them this paper." He took a letter from his pocket. "I don't dream, myself," he said; "at my age one doesn't dream, even when awake; but I receive letters. Read this one; it's very interesting." Nanon shuddered as she took the letter the duke handed her, and started when she saw the writing; but the movement was imperceptible, and she read,-- "'Monseigneur le Duc d'Épernon is informed that a man who, for six months past, has been on familiar terms with Mademoiselle Nanon de Lartigues, will visit her this evening, and will remain to supper and to sleep. "'As I do not desire to leave Monseigneur le Duc d'Épernon in uncertainty, he is informed that his fortunate rival is Monsieur le Baron de Canolles.'" Nanon turned pale; the blow struck home. "Ah! Roland! Roland!" she murmured, "I believed myself to be well rid of you." "Am I well informed?" queried the duke, triumphantly. "Not by any means," retorted Nanon; "and if your political police is no better organized than your amorous police, I pity you." "You pity me?" "Yes; for this Monsieur de Canolles, whom you gratuitously honor by believing him to be your rival, is not here, and you are at liberty to wait and see if he comes." "He has come." "He?" cried Nanon. "That is not true!" There was an unmistakable accent of truth in this exclamation of the accused. "I mean that he came within four hundred yards, and stopped at the Golden Calf, luckily for him." Nanon saw that the duke was not nearly so well informed as she had supposed at first; she shrugged her shoulders as another idea, prompted doubtless by the letter, which she was folding and unfolding in her hands, began to take root in her mind.