But it was only for a moment. This was Quebec, the seat of
the French power in America, and they were in the Intendant's palace,
the very core and heart of it. The laughter that had been hushed for a
thoughtful instant or two came back in full tide, and once more the
Chevalier Pierre Boucher spoke to Robert.
"The songs of our France are beautiful," he said. "None other have in
them so much of poetry and haunting lament."
The youth detected as before the challenging under note in a remark that
otherwise would have seemed irrelevant, and an angry contradiction
leaped swiftly to his lips, but with the recollection of Willet's
warning look he restrained himself again.
"France has many beautiful things," he replied quietly.
"Well spoken, Mr. Lennox! A compliment to us from one of another race is
worth having," said de Courcelles. But Robert thought he saw that
significant look pass for a second time between de Courcelles and
Boucher. The long dinner drew to its close and the invited guests passed
into the private ballroom, where the band began to play dance music.
Pages:
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337