Chapter VI : For the Poor of Paris



There was no time to say more then. For the laughing, chatting
groups of friends had once more closed up round Marguerite and her
husband, and she, ever on the alert, gave neither look nor sign that
any serious conversation had taken place between Sir Percy and
herself.

Whatever she might feel or dread with regard to the foolhardy
adventures in which he still persistently embarked, no member of the
League ever guarded the secret of his chief more loyally than did
Marguerite Blakeney.

Though her heart overflowed with a passionate pride in her husband,
she was clever enough to conceal every emotion save that which
Nature had insisted on imprinting in her face, her present radiant
happiness and her irresistible love. And thus before the world she
kept up that bantering way with him, which had characterized her
earlier matrimonial life, that good-natured, easy contempt which he
had so readily accepted in those days, and which their entourage
would have missed and would have enquired after, if she had changed
her manner towards him too suddenly.

In her heart she knew full well that within Percy Blakeney's soul she
had a great and powerful rival: his wild, mad, passionate love of
adventure. For it he would sacrifice everything, even his life; she