two o’clock in the morning
To feel that she was adored by this man , who rose above other men , whose character frightened her ; to treat him like a child ; to play with him as Poppaea played with Nero -- many women , like the wives of King Henry VIII , have paid for such a perilous delight with all the blood in their veins . Grim presentiment ! Even as she surrendered the delicate , pale , gold curls to his touch , and felt the close pressure of his hand , the little hand of a man whose greatness she could not mistake ; even as she herself played with his dark , thick locks , in that boudoir where she reigned a queen , the Duchess would say to herself : `` This man is capable of killing me if he once finds out that I am playing with him . '' Armand de Montriveau stayed with her till two o'clock in the morning . From that moment this woman , whom he loved , was neither a duchess nor a Navarreins ; Antoinette , in her disguises , had gone so far as to appear to be a woman . On that most blissful evening , the sweetest prelude ever played by a Parisienne to what the world calls `` a slip '' ; in spite of all her affectations of a coyness which she did not feel , the General saw all maidenly beauty in her . He had some excuse for believing that so many storms of caprice had been but clouds covering a heavenly soul ; that these must be lifted one by one like the veils that hid her divine loveliness .