“I am not very well.”
“You should go to bed,” she replied, with that ironical air which went so well with her delicate and witty face.
“Where?”
“At home.”
“You know that I shouldn’t be able to sleep there.”
“Well, then, it won’t do for you to come and be pettish here because you have seen a man in my box.”
“It is not for that reason.”
“Yes, it is. I know; and you are wrong, so let us say no more about it. You will go back with Prudence after the theatre, and you will stay there till I call. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
How could I disobey?