“To hell with your Antoine!” he burst in vehemently. “You play with me as a cat with a bird;” and throwing her hand from him he turned and strode away. He got no farther than the corner of the house, and looking back saw her leaning against the wall nursing her arm as if in pain. “Forgive me, Lucette,” he cried remorsefully, hastening back. “I am a brute; you fire my blood when you make me jealous. If you love Antoine de Cavannes better than me, say so now, and let me go. But don’t torture me.” She stood nursing her arm and looking up at him. “Torture _you_, is it? Torture _you_?” and she held her arm up in reproach. “You have only to say the word, and I’ll never trouble you again. It can’t be both Antoine and me. Choose!” “Choose!” she repeated, mocking his serious tone. Then with a laugh and a change to coquettish hesitation: “Hot-tempered, handsome Denys or splay-footed, ugly Antoine, eh? It can’t be both of you, eh? And if----” She paused teasingly. “In God’s name, can’t you be serious?” “When I am, I’ll choose neither of you, but just bury myself in a nunnery. So good-bye, my lord surly-face;” and she burst into a laugh. “You mean that good-bye?” “When did I wish you anything but good?” “You’ll drive me away from you and from Morvaix,” he said angrily. “Oh, you’ll soon be back again.” “You think you can play with me as you will.” “Stupid! As if I cared where you go! But you can’t leave Gabrielle. You can be many nasty things, but at least you can’t be untrue to your trust.” His angry features relaxed somewhat at this. “I wish I could read your heart.” “So does Antoine.” Angered again at this, a hot retort was stayed on his lips as Gabrielle de Malincourt stepped out of one of the tall windows of the terrace close to them. “Ah, my good Denys, and, of course, Lucette,” she said with a smile. “It should be the other order, mademoiselle, I fear,” he answered. “Lucette, and of course, Denys. It is Denys who is ‘of course.’” Gabrielle glanced at them both and understood. “Quarrelling again! Lucette, Lucette. You treat him villainously. But never mind, Denys. I know what’s in her heart whatever her lips may say.” “Gabrielle, I----” began Lucette in protest, when Gabrielle interposed. “Yes, yes, I know what you would say. But I am not Denys. When the sea is very calm some people like to rock a boat to make pretence; but when the storm comes in reality it’s all very different. Wait till there comes a bit of a storm, Denys, and you’ll see the truth. If Lucette had been I just now in the market place and you had been at hand, you would have seen to whom she would have turned.” “Has anything chanced, mademoiselle?” asked Denys quickly.