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"Your fracture is far from fully healed. You might have caused serious damage and set back your recovery."

"A small risk to assure the people that their leader is not a vegetable." Sarveux smiled weakly.

Danielle came and sat on the edge of the bed. "You've made your point, Charles. There is no need to exert yourself." He kissed her hand. "I beg your forgiveness, Danielle."

She looked at him in confusion. "Forgiveness?"

"Yes," he said softly so the others in the room did not hear. "I undervalued your spirit. I always looked upon you as a wealthy child whose only aim in life was to nurture a great beauty and indulge in Cinderella fantasies. I was wrong."

"I'm not sure I understand . . ." she said hesitantly.

"In my absence you stepped into my shoes and took up the reins of office with dignity and determination," he said sincerely. "You have truly proven that Danielle Sarveux is the first lady of the land."

Suddenly she felt a, deep sadness for him. In certain respects he was perceptive, and in others he seemed naive. Only now was he beginning to appreciate her capabilities. And yet her desires completely eluded him. He could not see that she was an illusion, could not guess the extent of her

deceit.

By the time he came to know her fully, she thought, it would be too late.

Sarveux was in his robe, seated on the sofa and staring at the television set, whei Henri Villon entered his room later that night. A news commentator was standing in the middle of Quebec Street, surrounded by a huge crowd of cheering people.

"Thank you for coming, Henri."

Villon looked at the TV. "It's done," he said quietly. "The referendum for full independence has passed.

Quebec is a nation."

"Now the chaos begins," said Sarveux. He punched the OFF button on the control box and the TV set went dark. Then he turned to Villon and motioned to a chair. "How do you see it?"

"I'm certain the transition will be smooth."

"You're overly optimistic. Until a general election can be held to install a new government, Quebec's parliament will be in turmoil, a golden opportunity for the FQS to rise up out of their sewer and make a power play." He shook his head sadly. "Jules Guertier's death could not have come at a worse time. He and I could have worked together in softening the road. Now I don't know."

"Surely you feel that the vacuum left by Jules can be filled?"

"By whom? You perhaps?"

A hardness came into Villon's eyes. "No man is better qualified. My efforts were instrumental in putting across the referendum. I have the backing of the trade unions and financial institutions. I am a respected party leader, and most important, I am a Frenchman who is highly regarded by the rest of Canada.

Quebec needs me" Charles. I shall run for president and I'll win."

"So Henri Villon is going to lead Quebec out of the wilderness," said Sarveux caustically.

"French culture is more alive today than ever before. My sacred duty is to nourish it."

"Stop waving the fleur-delis, Henri. It doesn't become you."

"I have deep feelings for my native land."

"You have deep feelings for only Henri Villon."

"You think so little of me?" snapped Villon.

Sarveux stared him in the eye. "I had a high opinion of you once. But I watched as blind ambition transformed a dedicated idealist into a devious schemer." Villon glared back. "I think you should explain yourself."

"For starters, what possessed you to black out a third of the United States at the James Bay power project?"

Villon's expression turned impassive. "I felt it was necessary. The blackout was meant as a warning to the Americans to keep their hands off of French affairs."

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