"That is absurd," he said instantly. "Perhaps Monsieur Batiscombe would not object to being confronted with me for five minutes?"
"I am sure he would not object," said Leonora, without hesitation. She was quite certain of her lover's courage, at all events. She knew he would face anybody.
"Meanwhile," said Marcantonio, "you will oblige me by giving up your harmless habit of going out with him every day. I should have supposed that you would at least have had the pride to deny it, after what occurred when he was here." Marcantonio was angry, but he reasoned rightly.
"You would have preferred that I should lie to you, my dear," said his wife disdainfully, in the full virtue of having told half the truth—the first half.
"I would not permit myself to apply such a word to anything you say," answered Marcantonio, with cold courtesy. "But I would have you observe that you are mistaken with regard to my sister, and that if she told me she heard the man insult you, he did. Perhaps you did not understand what he said. It is the same. You will not meet him again at the rocks—nor anywhere else."
"Why not? Why shall I not meet him?" she inquired, raising her eyebrows in disdain.
"Because I forbid you." He spoke shortly, as if that ended the matter.
Leonora shrugged her shoulders a little, with an expression of pity, and shifted her position, so as to face him.
"You forbid me, do you?" she asked, lowering her voice.
"Mais oui! I forbid you to see him anywhere."