“Yes,” replied the Countess.
“Revenge will cost more than that.”
“How much will it cost?”
“Wait for me tomorrow night,” said Thibault, “and I will tell you.”
“Where shall I await you?” asked the Countess.
“Here,” said Thibault, with the leer of a wild animal.
“I will await you here,” said the Countess.
“Till tomorrow then.”
“Till tomorrow.”
Thibault went out. The Countess went and replaced the pearls in her dressing case; lifted up a false bottom, and drew from underneath it a small bottle containing an opal-coloured liquid, and a little dagger with a jewelled handle and case, and a blade inlaid with gold. She hid both beneath her pillow, knelt at her prie-dieu, and, her prayer finished, threw herself dressed on to her bed. …