Timar was angry at being detected for the first time in his life in a direct lie.
His papers were not kept by Timéa, but in his own room.
"No, do not wake my wife; the papers are in my room—I only wanted the key."
"And you have already found it?" asked Athalie, seriously, who then lighted the candles and officiously conducted Michael to his room.
Here she put down the candle and did not go away. Michael turned over his papers with confusion; he could not find what he sought—naturally—for he knew not what to look for. At last he shut his desk without taking anything out. Again he was met by the hateful smile which from time to time played round Athalie's lips. "Do you wish for anything?" said Athalie, in answer to his inquiring looks.
Michael remained silent.
"Do you wish me to speak?"
Michael felt at these words as if the world was falling on him. He dared not answer.
"Shall I tell you of Timéa?" whispered Athalie, bending nearer to him, and holding the stupefied man under the spell of her beautiful serpent-eyes.
"What do you know?" asked Michael, hotly.