Then he giggled in the face of the Master of Tralee.

It was like the matador's waving of the scarlet cloth in the face of the enraged bull.

Having thus relieved his feelings, Orlando turned and walked to the door of the reception-room, but was stopped by the old man rushing at him.

Swinging round, Orlando almost filled the doorway.
"You devil's spawn," Mazarine almost shouted, "get out of that doorway.
I want my wife.

You needn't try to hide her.