“What I said before,” replied the Count⁠—“No.”

Even in the vehemence of my anger I felt his calm, cold, grey eyes on my face. They turned away from me as soon as he had spoken, and looked significantly at his wife. Madame Fosco immediately moved close to my side, and in that position addressed Sir Percival before either of us could speak again.

“Favour me with your attention for one moment,” she said, in her clear icily-suppressed tones. “I have to thank you, Sir Percival, for your hospitality, and to decline taking advantage of it any longer. I remain in no house in which ladies are treated as your wife and Miss Halcombe have been treated here today!”

Sir Percival drew back a step, and stared at her in dead silence. The declaration he had just heard⁠—a declaration which he well knew, as I well knew, Madame Fosco would not have ventured to make without her husband’s permission⁠—seemed to petrify him with surprise. The Count stood by, and looked at his wife with the most enthusiastic admiration.