"You dare to talk to me in this way!" cried Constance, passionately. "You dare to treat me as an imbecile! This is going too far! If you had shown ever so little shame I would have thrown the book aside, and never again have spoken of it. But to insult me by supposing that force of impudence can overcome the testimony of my own reason! Very well. The question shall be decided by others. All who have heard you expatiate on your--_your_ 'bio-sociological' theory shall be made acquainted with this French writer, and form their own opinion as to your originality." Lashmar drew himself up. "By all means." His voice was perfectly controlled. "I have my doubts whether you will persuade anyone to read it--people don't take very eagerly to philosophical works in a foreign language--and I think it very unlikely that anyone but yourself has troubled to keep in mind the theories and arguments which you are so kind as to say I stole. What's more, will it be very dignified behaviour to go about proclaiming that you have quarrelled with me, and that you are bent on giving me a bad character? Isn't it likely to cause a smile?" As she listened, Constance shook with passion. "Are you so utterly base," she cried, "as to stand there and deny the truth of what I say?" "I never argue with anyone in a rage. Why such a thing as this--a purely intellectual matter--a question for quiet reasoning--should infuriate you, I am at a loss to understand. We had better talk no more for the present. I must hope for another opportunity." He moved as though to withdraw, but by no means with the intention of doing so, for he durst not have left Constance in this mood of violent hostility. Her outbreak had astonished him; he knew not of what she might be capable. There flashed through his mind the easy assurance he had given to May--that Constance Bride should be persuaded to friendly offices on their behalf, and he had much ado to disguise his consternation. For a moment he thought of flattering her pride by unconditional surrender, by submissive appeal, but to that he could not bring himself. Her discovery, her contempt and menaces, had deeply offended him; the indeterminate and shifting sentiments with which he had regarded her crystallised into dislike--that hard dislike which commonly results, whether in man or woman, from trifling with sacred relations. That Constance had been--perhaps still was tenderly disposed to him, served merely to heighten his repugnance. To stand in fear of this woman was a more humiliating and exasperating sensation than he had ever known. "Do as you think fit," he added in a stern voice, pausing at a little distance. "It is indifferent to me. In any case, Lady Ogram will soon know how things stand, and the result must be what it will. I have chosen my course." Constance was regarding him steadily. Her wrath had Leased to flare, but it glowed through her countenance.