"Indeed!" said Charmian, with studied indifference.
"Yes!" he exclaimed, almost with violence.
"All this is very interesting. But I don't see what it has to do with me and my husband. You were good enough to offer to buy back your libretto from us last year. We refused. Our refusal—"
"Your refusal, madame! I never spoke about the matter to your husband. I never asked him."
"Have you come here now to ask him? Is that what you mean, monsieur?"
Gillier got up, throwing his cigarette end into the brass coffee tray. He was evidently much excited. As he stood up in front of her Charmian thought that he looked suddenly more common, coarser. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his black trousers.
"I must understand the position," he began.
"It is perfectly clear. Forgive me, monsieur, but I must say I think it rather bad taste on your part to return to a subject which has been finally disposed of and which is very disagreeable to me."
"Madame, I am here to say to you that I cannot consider it as finally disposed of till I have discussed it with Monsieur Heath. I came here prepared to make a proposition."