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Cavoye had many times been promised an appointment, but had never received one such as he wished. The office of Grand Marechal des Logis had just become vacant: the King offered it to Cavoye, but on condition that he should marry Mademoiselle Coetlogon. Cavoye sniffed a little longer, but was obliged to submit to this condition at last.

The site of the chateau at the confluence of the Eure and the Voise is altogether charming. Madame de Maintenon did much to make the property more commodious and convenient and built the great right wing which binds the donjon to the main corps de logis. Her own apartments were situated in the new part of the palace.

The garage gates looked strange, with a thick white banner blown down each side of the pillars. She looked inside the garage shed. Yes, all the cars had gone hers stood alone, the suitcases inside, tyres pumped stiff and solid, the hood well buckled back. "Mademoiselle hasn't gone with the convoy?" said the marechal des logis, aghast. "Oh, I'm separate," she laughed. "But the convoy is gone."

Like Chenonceaux, it is a watery place, though it is more meagrely moated than the little chateau on the Cher. It consists of a large square corps de logis, with a round tower at each angle, rising out of a somewhat too slumberous pond. The water the water of the Indre sur- rounds it, but it is only on one side that it bathes its feet in the moat.

From beyond this, and as from a great distance beyond the court, beyond the corps de logis forming the front came, as if excited and exciting, the vague voice of Paris. Strether had all along been subject to sudden gusts of fancy in connexion with such matters as these odd starts of the historic sense, suppositions and divinations with no warrant but their intensity.