"I did not say that."
"You meant it, then! What did you say? You have forgotten what you said already! Just like a girl! And you pretend to argue with me, with your own father! It is beyond belief! Silence, I say! Do not answer me!"
Marietta sat quite still, and began to look at her nails, which were very pink and well shaped. After a short silence Beroviero stopped before her.
"Well!" he cried. "Why do you not speak?" His eyes blazed and he tapped the pavement with his foot. She raised her eyebrows, smiled a little wearily and sighed.
"I misunderstood you," she said, with exasperating patience. "I thought you told me to be silent."
"You always misunderstand me," he answered angrily and walking off again. "You always did, and you always will! I believe you do it on purpose. But I will make you understand! You shall know what I mean!"
"I should be so glad," said Marietta. "Pray tell me what you mean."
This was too much. He turned sharply in his walk.
"I mean you to marry Contarini," he cried out, with a stamp of the foot.
"And you mean never to see Paolo Godi's manuscript again," suggested Marietta quietly.