"I find the situation amusing," she replied. "Half an hour ago I offered Sir Julien Portel what is left of my life."
Falkenberg stood perfectly still, watching her closely. Then his eyes filled with a sudden bright light.
"You!" he exclaimed. "You—Princess von Falkenberg—offered yourself to this man and were refused?"
"You are indeed a genius," she admitted. "I was refused."
There was a brief silence. Falkenberg waited. Madame Christophor remained silent. Her attitude puzzled him a little. He was afraid to speak for fear of striking the wrong note. Nevertheless, the onus of speech was thrust upon him.
"Madame," he said at last, "I anticipate your reply. This man has put an intolerable insult upon you. While he lives you could never forget it. There are some privileges still belonging to me. I claim the right of avenging that affront."
"It comes conveniently—the affront!" she remarked, through her clenched teeth.
"Conveniently or not, the affront exists!" he cried. "You cannot refuse me now! You would not have him go unpunished!"
"I am not sure that he was to blame."
"Not to blame?" Falkenberg repeated, with emphasis. "Would you have me believe that you threw yourself at his head unasked, without encouragement—you, the proudest woman in France? One does not believe such folly!"