`Damnit！whatdoyoumean？’criedSirPercival，astheCountquietlymovedawaywithhiswifetothedoor。
`AtothertimesImeanwhatIsay，butatthistimeImeanwhatmywifesays，’repliedtheimpenetrableItalian。`Wehavechangedplaces，Percival，foronce，andMadameFosco’sopinionis——mine。’
SirPercivalcrumpledupthepaperinhishand，andpushingpasttheCount，withanotheroath，stoodbetweenhimandthedoor。
`Haveyourownway，’hesaid，withbaffledrageinhislow，half-whisperingtones。`Haveyourownway——andseewhatcomesofit。’Withthosewordshelefttheroom。
MadameFoscoglancedinquiringlyatherhusband。`Hehasgoneawayverysuddenly，’shesaid。`Whatdoesitmean？’