e that way. She governs men by cheating them; and (with
disdain) they like it, and let her govern them. (She sits down again,
with her back to him.)

NAPOLEON (not attending to her). Barras, Barras I-- (Turning very
threateningly to her, his face darkening.) Take care, take care: do you
hear? You may go too far.

LADY (innocently turning her face to him). What's the matter?

NAPOLEON. What are you hinting at? Who is this woman?

LADY (meeting his angry searching gaze with tranquil indifference as
she sits looking up at him with her right arm resting lightly along the
back of her chair, and one knee crossed over the other). A vain, silly,
extravagant creature, with a very able and ambitious husband who knows
her through and through--knows that she has lied to him about her age,
her income, her social position, about everything that silly women lie
about--knows that she is incapable of fidelity to any principle or any
person; and yet could not help loving her--could not help his man's
instinct to make use of her for his own advancement with Barras.

NAPOLEON (in a stealthy, coldly furious whisper). This is your revenge,
you she cat, for having had to give me the letters.

LADY. Nonsense! Or do you mean that YOU are that sort of man?

NAPOLEON (exasperated, clasps his hands behind him, his fingers
twitching, and says, as he walks irritably away from her to the
fireplace). This woman will drive me out of my senses. (To her.) Begone.

LADY (seated immovably). Not without that letter.

NAPOLEON. Begone, I tell you. (Walking from the fireplace to the
vineyard and back to the table.) You shall have no letter. I don't like
you. You're a detestable woman, and as ugly as Satan. I don't choose to
be pestered by strange women. Be off. (He turns his back on her. In
quiet amusement, she leans her cheek on her hand and laughs at him. He
turns again, angrily mocking her.) Ha! ha! ha! What are you laughing at?

LADY. At you, General. I have often seen persons of your sex getting
into a pet and behaving like children; but I never saw a really great
man do it before.

NAPOLEON (brutally, flinging the words in her face). Pooh: flattery!
flattery! coarse, impudent flattery!

LADY (springing up with a bright flush in her cheeks). Oh, you are too
bad. Keep your letters. Read the story of your own dishonor in them;
and much good may they do you. Good-bye. (She goes indignantly towards
the inner door.)

NAPOLEON. My own--! Stop. C