'I believe, Maud, that you are a cunning and wicked little thing.'
'Wisdom is not cunning, Madame; nor is it wicked to ask your meaning in explicit language,' I replied.
'And so, you clever cheaile, we two sit here, playing at a game of chess, over this little table, to decide which shall destroy the other—is it not so?'
'I will not allow you to destroy me,' I retorted, with a sudden flash.
Madame stood up, and rubbed her mouth with her open hand. She looked to me like some evil being seen in a dream. I was frightened.
'You are going to hurt me!' I ejaculated, scarce knowing what I said.
'If I were, you deserve it. You are very malicious, ma chère: or, it may be, only very stupid.'
A knock came to the door.
'Come in,' I cried, with a glad sense of relief.
A maid entered.