"Do you wish to kill me?" asked she, not moving from her place, nor
winking an eye.
Ignat was accustomed to seeing people tremble before his wrath,
and it was strange and offensive to him to see her calm.
"There," he cried, lifting his hand to strike her. Slowly, but in
time, she eluded the blow; then she seized his hand, pushed it
away from her, and said in the same tone:
"Don't you dare to touch me. I will not allow you to come near me!"
Her eyes became smaller and their sharp, metallic glitter sobered
Ignat. He understood by her face that she, too, was a strong
beast, and if she chose to she wouldn't admit him to her, even
though she were to lose her life.
"Oh," he growled, and went away.
But having retreated once, he would not do it again: he could not
bear that a woman, and his wife at that, should not bow before
him-- this would have degraded him. He then began to realise that
henceforth his wife would never yield to him in any matter, and
that an obstinate strife for predominance must start between them.
"Very well! We'll see who will conquer," he thought the next day,
watching his wife with stern curiosity; and in his soul a strong
desire was already raging to start the strife, that he might
enjoy his victory the sooner.
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