William Kirby

“ Angelique was like an angry pantheress at this moment. The darts of jealousy just planted by her two friends tore her side, and she felt reckless both as to what she said and what she did. With a burst of passion not rare in women like her, she turned her wrath full upon him as the nearest object. She struck Bigot with her clenched hand upon the breast, exclaiming with wild vehemence,--
"You lie! Francois Bigot, you never wore me next your heart, although you said so! You wear the lady of Beaumanoir next your heart. ”

“ Angelique pressed the Intendant's hand with a grasp that left every vein bloodless. "As I hold fast to you, Bigot, and hold you to your engagements, thank God that you are not a woman! If you were, I think I should kill you. But as you are a man, I forgive, and take your promise of amendment. It is what foolish women always do!" ”

“ She had already undergone a revulsion of feeling, and repented having carried her resentment so far,--not that she felt it less, but she was cunning and artful, although her temper sometimes overturned her craft, and made wreck of her schemes.
"I am sorry I was so angry, Bigot, as to strike you with this feeble hand." Angelique smiled as she extended her dainty fingers, which, delicate as they were, had the strength and elasticity of steel.
"Not so feeble either, Angelique!" replied he, laughing; "few men could plant a better blow: you hit me on the heart fairly, Angelique." ”