"Do you know what you are saying?" she asked, and there was a tone of menace in her words.
"Oh, perfectly," answered her husband calmly; "and I will also take care that you obey me—bien entendu!"
"Then it is war?" asked Leonora, as though she hoped it might be, and to the knife.
"If you disobey, it is war," said Marcantonio, "but you will not."
"Why not?"
"Because I will prevent you. It is useless to prolong this discussion."
"Mon Dieu, I ask nothing better than to finish it as soon as possible," said Leonora.
"In that case, good-night," replied Marcantonio, rising.
"Good-night," answered Leonora, still seated. "I am not sleepy yet. You are not afraid that Monsieur Batiscombe will be announced after you are gone to bed?"
She spoke scornfully, as though trying to drive a wound with every word. She thought she knew her husband, and she felt triumphant.