'Why?' said Frances ironically. 'He is free and I am free also. Can there be anything more agreeable in matrimony? We have not time to be saturated with each other and we are happy.'
She looked scornfully at her husband, who took it as mirthfully as he could and laughed in the most natural way.
'Does the countess remain?' the lady asked.
'Unfortunately, I must leave her!' rejoined Sulkowski. 'Although I should like her to accompany me on the campaign.'
'Then you think of fighting?'
'Yes! Pray wish me good luck that I may bring you a Turk's head.'
'I do not wish for that,' she said maliciously. 'Bring back your own head safe, that will suffice. With a wreath of laurels on it, it would look very well on a medal.'
Her own allusion to a medal recalled Watzdorf to her memory and made her eyes burn with fire.
'I wish you good luck,' she said, making a curtsey. Her eyes said something else.
Sulkowski bowed carelessly. The hostess turned towards her apartment. The host took Sulkowski by the arm, and whispering something confidentially, led him back to his study.