"You love to make mischief!" "No!" she answered swiftly.

"For 'twas not I made the match.

But go your way, go your way, Monsieur, and see what kind of a welcome you'll get!" "I will," Count Hannibal growled.

And he started along the bank to rejoin his wife.
The light in his eyes had died down.

Yet would they have been more sombre, and his face more harsh, had he known the mind of the woman to whom he was hastening.