"But it's abominable!" he said, lifting his hands. "How do you suppose I can be patient? If you are joking let me tell you it's a hideous joke. If what you tell me is serious, I am astounded at your calm."
His face paled rapidly as it had flushed, but it paled too much; it became almost grey.
Regina did not move an eyelash, so narrowly she was watching him. She saw that his agitation was real, but she did not know, could not find out, its precise cause. For some moments, however, the strong desire that Antonio should not belie his indignation induced in her a wave of joy. She abandoned herself to it. It was not mere desire, it was certainty of having been deceived! Yet—an inexplicable thing happened; the hope of having been deceived did not restore her kindness. She became cynical—cruel.
"Come!" she said, with bitter gaiety, "why should I be angry? why should I strike Gabrie? Suppose she had told me the truth? Let's walk on," she added, trying to take his arm again.
But he repulsed her, and remained standing.
"Let me alone! What do you mean by the truth?"
"The fact that every one believes it, without daring to tell me, as she dared——"
"Every one believes it? But—Regina, do you believe it?"
"I also!"