She crunched them in her hand, and tossed them to his feet. And as she looked upon him now, a smile was on her face.
“We meet and part tonight,” she said. “You have fallen on Sicilian days and sensual rest, too soon. You might have cajoled, and fawned, and played your traitor’s part, a little longer, and grown richer. You purchase your voluptuous retirement dear!”
“Edith!” he retorted, menacing her with his hand. “Sit down! Have done with this! What devil possesses you?”
“Their name is Legion,” she replied, uprearing her proud form as if she would have crushed him; “you and your master have raised them in a fruitful house, and they shall tear you both. False to him, false to his innocent child, false every way and everywhere, go forth and boast of me, and gnash your teeth, for once, to know that you are lying!”
He stood before her, muttering and menacing, and scowling round as if for something that would help him to conquer her; but with the same indomitable spirit she opposed him, without faltering.
“In every vaunt you make,” she said, “I have my triumph. I single out in you the meanest man I know, the parasite and tool of the proud tyrant, that his wound may go the deeper, and may rankle more. Boast, and revenge me on him! You know how you came here tonight; you know how you stand cowering there; you see yourself in colours quite as despicable, if not as odious, as those in which I see you. Boast then, and revenge me on yourself.”
The foam was on his lips; the wet stood on his forehead. If she would have faltered once for only one half-moment, he would have pinioned her; but she was as firm as rock, and her searching eyes never left him.
“We don’t part so,” he said. “Do you think I am drivelling, to let you go in your mad temper?”
“Do you think,” she answered, “that I am to be stayed?”
“I’ll try, my dear,” he said with a ferocious gesture of his head.