You would not think it too much to set the whole province in flames so that you could have your way with this wretched child.

But, Ventregris! to ruin me--to--to--" He fell silent for very want of words; just gaped and gasped, and then, with hands folded upon his paunch, he set himself to pace the chamber.
Madame de Condillac stood watching him, her face composed, her glance cold.

She was like some stalwart oak, weathering with unshaken front a hurricane.

When he had done, she moved away from the fireplace, and, beating her side gently with her whip, she stepped to the door.
"Au revoir, Monsieur de Tressan," said she, mighty cool, her back towards him.
At that he halted in his feverish stride, stood still and threw up his head.

His anger went out, as a candle is extinguished by a puff of wind.
And in its place a new fear crept into his heart.
"Madame, madame!" he cried.