LADY. You brute! (abandoning the attitude, she comes to the end
of the couch, where she turns with her back to it, leaning
against it and facing him with her hands behind her.)

NAPOLEON. Ah, that's better. Now listen to me. I like you.
What's more, I value your respect.

LADY. You value what you have not got, then.

NAPOLEON. I shall have it presently. Now attend to me. Suppose I
were to allow myself to be abashed by the respect due to your
sex, your beauty, your heroism and all the rest of it? Suppose I,
with nothing but such sentimental stuff to stand between these
muscles of mine and those papers which you have about you, and
which I want and mean to have: suppose I, with the prize within
my grasp, were to falter and sneak away with my hands empty; or,
what would be worse, cover up my weakness by playing the
magnanimous hero, and sparing you the violence I dared not use,
would you not despise me from the depths of your woman's soul?
Would any woman be such a fool? Well, Bonaparte can rise to the
situation and act like a woman when it is necessary. Do you
understand?

The lady, without speaking, stands upright, and takes a packet of
papers from her bosom. For a moment she has an intense impulse to
dash them in his face. But her good breeding cuts her off from
any vulgar method of relief. She hands them to him politely, only
averting her head. The moment he takes them, she hurries across
to the other side of the room; covers her face with her hands;
and sits down, with her body turned away to the back of the