'You'll forgive, I think, when I explain,' said she at last. 'Explain?' he asked her, mystified. 'That night in Milan ... the last time we spoke together. You thought I used you cruelly.' 'No more cruelly than I deserve to be used in a world where it is expected of a man that he shall be more sensible to beauty than to honour.' 'I knew it was honour made you harsh,' she said, and reached forth a hand to touch his own where it lay upon the pommel. 'I understood. I understand you better than you think, Bellarion. Could I have been angry with you then?' 'You seemed angry.' 'Seemed. That is the word. It was necessary to seem. You did not know that Facino was behind the arras that masked the little door.' 'I hoped that you did not.' It was like a blow between the eyes. She snatched away her hand. Brows met over staring, glaring eyes and her nether lip was caught in sharp white teeth. 'You knew!' she gasped at last, and her voice held all the emotions. 'The arras quivered, and there was no air. That drew my eyes, and I saw the point of my lord's shoe protruding from the curtain's hem.' Her face held more wickedness in that moment than he would have thought possible to find wed with so much perfection. 'When ... When did you see? Was it before you spoke to me as you did?' 'Your thoughts do me poor credit. If I had seen in time should I have been quite so plain and uncompromising in my words? I did not see until after I had spoken.' The explanation nothing mollified her. 'Almost I hoped you'd say that the words you used, you used because you know of Facino's presence.' After that, he thought, no tortuous vagaries of the human mind should ever again astonish him. 'You hoped I would confess myself a bloodless coward who uses a woman as a buckler against a husband's righteous wrath!' As she made no answer, he continued: 'Each of us has been defrauded in his hopes. Mine were that you did not suspect Facino's presence, and that you spoke from a heart at last aroused to loyalty.' It took her a moment fully to understand him. Then her face flamed scarlet, and unshed tears of humiliation and anger blurred her vision. But her voice, though it quivered a little, was derisive. 'You spare me nothing,' she said. 'You strip me naked in your brutal scorn, and then fling mud upon me. I have been your friend, Bellarion--aye, and more. But that is over now.' 'Madonna, if I have offended ...' 'Let be.' She became imperious. 'Listen now. You must not continue with my Lord Facino because where he goes thither must I go, too.' 'You ask me to take my dismissal from his service?' He was incredulous. 'I beg it ... a favour, Bellarion. It is yourself have brought things to the pass where I may not meet you without humiliation. And continue daily to meet you I will not.' Her ready wicked temper flared up. 'You'll go, or else I swear ...' 'Swear nothing,' he thundered, very suddenly aroused. 'Threaten, and you bind me to Facino hand and foot.'