"By telling me the truth!" he said, glaring at me and whining out his
words. "Do you know anything about the attack on my closet this evening?"
Nothing is ever gained by denying, so I took a leaf from woman's logic,
and answered his question by another.
"An attack on your Majesty's closet?" I cried. Then after a long pause,
and with a manner of deep injury, I demanded: "Has anything untoward
befallen my cousin? I carried out your Majesty's instructions without
objection or protest. I intrusted her to your care, and it is my right
and my duty to demand an account of her and to hold your Majesty
responsible for her welfare."
He looked at me for a moment with a hang-dog expression on his face, but
he could not stand my gaze, so he turned on his heel and left the room
without another word.
He was not convinced of my guilt, nor would he believe me innocent.
Evidently the royal verdict was "not proven." But in any case I knew that
my favor at court was at an end.
During the next week I constantly importuned the king to tell me what
had become of my cousin, and intimated my intention to make trouble in
terms so plain--for I knew the king's favor was lost to me--that my Lord
Clarendon was instructed to offer me a sum of money to say nothing more
about the matter. I agreed to accept the money, it was paid, and I
remained silent.
Frequently the difference between an acted lie and a spoken lie is the
difference between success and failure.
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