To my surprise she turned pale, and vehemently remonstrated.
"Don't laugh, sir! There's nothing to be amused at in what you have just told me.

You didn't go into his room last night?
Oh, what made you do that!" I described his successful appeal to my compassion--not very willingly, for it made me look (as I thought) like a weak person.

Little by little, she extracted from me the rest: how he objected to find a young man, especially in my social position, talking to Cristel; how he insisted on my respecting his claims, and engaging not to see her again; how, when I refused to do this, he gave me his confession to read, so that I might find out what a formidable man I was setting at defiance; how I had not been in the least alarmed, and had treated him (as Cristel had just heard) on the footing of a perfect stranger.
"There's the whole story," I concluded.

"Like a scene in a play, isn't it ?" She protested once more against the light tone that I persisted in assuming.
"I tell you again, sir, this is no laughing matter.

You have roused his jealousy.