"I believe," Charlotte replied, sustaining with difficulty the glance which was fixed upon her, "that nothing but death would keep him away."
"And you doubtless wrote to him?"
"No, madame. Was I wrong in that? I cannot recall that that was what you told me to do."
Catherine continued to look at her as a serpent is said to look at a bird.
"You think yourself beautiful, and one who can intrigue well?"
"No, indeed, madame. Though there have been times when you have praised me for both."
"And now I call you an ugly fool, when compared with my own daughter."
"Madame, that is a comparison which I should not deny."
"So it follows that the King of Navarre prefers her to you. Do you like that?" Charlotte burst into tears, which came easily to her support. "If it be so, it is the more sorrow
