Bosio felt that shock of shame which smites a man in the back, as it were, when a woman is too strong for him and orders him brutally to do her will.
"I told him the truth," he answered, and his pale cheeks reddened with futile anger.
"The truth!" Matilde's face darkened.

"What?
What did you tell him ?" Bosio was weakly glad to have frightened her a little.
"The truth," he said, trying to assume a certain indifference.

"Just that.

I let him understand that nothing is definitely settled yet, and that there is no contract--" Matilde was silent, and her eyes seemed to draw nearer together, while the smooth red lips curled scornfully.
"Oh, what a coward you are!" she cried in a low voice, in deep disgust, and as she spoke she dropped his arm in contempt, though she still held his face with her angry gaze.
"You have no right to call me a coward," answered Bosio, defending his manhood.

"I told you that I could not do it.