His face was dangerous for a moment. They had not yet reached the promontory which sheltered them from Dreymarsh.
“Perhaps,” he muttered, leaning malignly towards her, “I could make myself even more obnoxious.”
“Quite possibly,” she replied, “only I want to tell you this. If you come a single inch nearer to me, one of them shall shoot you.”
“Your friend or your husband, eh?” he scoffed.
She waved him on.
“I think,” she told him, “that either of them would be quite capable of ridding the world of a coward like you.”
“A coward?” he repeated.
“Precisely! Isn't it a coward's part to terrorise a woman?”
“I don't want to terrorise you,” he said sulkily.
“Well, you must admit that you haven't shown any particular desire to make yourself agreeable,” she pointed out.