"Expected? How can we be expected?" she cried. The colour rushed into her face.
He put his finger to his lip, and looked warningly at Badelon's humped shoulders, jogging up and down in front of them. Then, stooping towards her, in a lower tone, "If Carlat has arrived before us, he will have told them," he said.
"Have told them!" she exclaimed.
"He came by the other road, and it is quicker."
She gazed at him in astonishment, her lips parted; and slowly she comprehended, and her eyes grew hard. "Then why," she said, "did you say it was longer? Had we been overtaken, monsieur, we had had you to thank for it, it seems!"
He bit his lip. "But we have not been overtaken," he rejoined. "On the contrary, you have me to thank for something quite different."
"As unwelcome, perhaps!" she retorted. "For what?"
"Softly, madame."
"For what?" she repeated, refusing to lower her voice. "Speak, monsieur, if you please." He had never seen her look at him in that way.
"For the fact," he answered, stung by her look and tone, "that when you arrive you will find yourself mistress in your own house! Is that nothing?"