"I choose that it shall be so."
"Very well."
"And I don't choose that your name shall be mixed up in it. They say in Silverbridge that you are canvassing for Mr. Lopez."
"Who says so?"
"I presume it's not true."
"Who says so, Plantagenet?"
"It matters not who has said so, if it be untrue. I presume it to be false."
"Of course it is false." Then the Duchess remembered her word to Mr. Sprugeon, and the cowardice of the lie was heavy on her. I doubt whether she would have been so shocked by the idea of a falsehood as to have been kept back from it had she before resolved that it would save her; but she was not in her practice a false woman, her courage being too high for falsehood. It now seemed to her that by this lie she was owning herself to be quelled and brought into absolute subjection by her husband. So she burst out into truth. "Now I think of it, I did say a word to Mr. Sprugeon. I told him that—that I hoped Mr. Lopez would be returned. I don't know whether you call that canvassing."
"I desired you not to speak to Mr. Sprugeon," he thundered forth.
"That's all very well, Plantagenet, but if you desire me to hold my tongue altogether, what am I to do?"