If Marianne had been in a laughing mood, she would have laughed heartily.
"It is absurd," she said. "You did not consent?"
"Yes, indeed, I have consented. Because I really hoped that you would relieve me from such an undesirable duty, a little too questionable."
"You would like?—What would you like?"
"I wish—no, I would have you not marry Monsieur de Rosas."
Marianne shrugged her shoulders.
She clearly felt the threat conveyed in Lissac's words, but she desired to show from the first that she disdained them. What right, after all, had this casual acquaintance to mix himself up in her life affairs? Because, one day, she had been charitable enough to give him her youth and her body! The duty of friendship! The rights of friendship! To protect Vaudrey! To defend Rosas! Words, tiresome words!
"And what if I wish to marry him, myself?—Would you prevent it?"
"Yes, if I could!" he said firmly. "It is time that to the freemasonry of women we should oppose the freemasonry of men."
"You are cruelly cowardly enough when you are alone, what would you be then when you are together?" said Marianne, with a malignant expression. "In fact," said she, after a moment's pause, "what would you have? What? Decide!—Will you send my letters to the duke?"