“In the simplest manner imaginable. I will inform Marcel Baradier of your life before you gave up your whole existence to international investigations and diplomatic intrigues, and we shall see if his love for you will survive, for instance, an account of the incident of Segovia.”
Sophia turned so pale that Cesare was afraid of the impression he had produced. Grinding her teeth, and stamping about the room like a wild beast at bay, she seized upon the revolver she had taken up on the arrival of Hans, and, levelling it at the head of the Italian, said—
“Ah, you villain; never again shall you betray a single human being!”
With extraordinary agility, Agostini leapt on to her, dashed her arm upwards, so that the shot could not reach him, and pitilessly twisting her beautiful white wrist, he took possession of the revolver, which he calmly placed in his pocket. Then looking resolutely at Sophia, he said—
“Now let the dagger have a turn!”
She fell into a chair.
“You dog! To dare to raise your hand against me! You shall be punished for it.”
“Good! But we cannot lose our time with such nonsense. Can it be admitted that the man the Countess Grodsko has chosen as her companion will submit to being fooled like the veriest ninny? You may hate me if you like, Sophia, but you shall not despise me! This is the first time we have tested our strength against one another, and as you see, I have not been found to be the weaker. Do not recommence the struggle; if you do, I shall treat you without the slightest gallantry?”
Shaking her head, and looking at her bruised hand, she said, submissively—
“You have hurt me, Cesare!”