"You won't hold me to the promise."
"If I release you from it," she warned him, her eyes becoming dangerous, "there must be no more talk of marriage between you and me."
He flung away from her, and resumed his walk about the room. He gazed distressfully into space, as if appealing to invisible arbiters.
"This is too childish—and too cruel," he complained. "I 'm not an idiot. I don't need an object-lesson. I am not utterly without imagination. I can see Sampaolo with my mind's eye. And seeing it, I decide in cold blood that not for forty million Sampaolos would I give up the woman I adore. There—I 've made the journey, and come back. Now I renew my suit. Will you have me?"
He stood over her again.
"There must be no more talk of having or not having between you and me—till you have kept your promise," said Susanna, coldly avoiding his gaze.
Anthony clenched his fists, ground his teeth.
"What folly—what obstinacy—what downright wanton capriciousness," in anger he muttered.
"And yet, two minutes ago, this man said he loved me," Susanna murmured, meaningly, to the ceiling.
"If I were n't unfortunate enough to love you, I should n't mind your—your perfectly barbarous unkindness."