He never saw the sign that madame made to her son, never so much as noticed Marius's stealthy progress towards the door.
"Oh," he continued, a satirical note running now through his tempestuous voice, "it is a fine thing to cozen each other with honeyed words, with smirks and with grimaces.

But we have done with that, madame." He towered grimly above her, shaking a threatening finger in her very face.
"We have done with that.

We shall resort to deeds, instead." "Aye, monsieur," she answered very coldly, sneering upon his red-hot fury, "there shall be deeds enough to satisfy even your outrageous thirst for them." That cold, sneering voice, with its note of threat, was like a hand of ice upon his overheated brain.

It cooled him on the instant.

He stiffened, and looked about him.