"Margaret," said Daniel incredulously, "surely you are not deliberately
refusing what I ask of you?"
"As surely as I'd refuse to walk a tight-rope at your behest, my lord."
"You defy me?" he asked quietly, his lips white.
It was her turn, now, to look incredulous. "But, Daniel, how can you
take it to heart like this? How can you suppose yourself better
qualified than I am to choose my friends? Next thing," she laughed,
"you'll be telling me what books I may not read!"
"Do you intend to obey me?"
"I hope I know my wifely duty too well to spoil you, my dear. 'Obey'
you indeed!" She tweaked the tip of his nose derisively.
"You will obey me, Margaret, or----" He paused helplessly.
"Obey me!" she mocked him, "or die, woman! Well, Daniel, if it comes
to force"--she looked at her pink finger nails--"I can scratch!"