[The awkwardness and the pause are telling enough, even without the knowledge of the myth and what Arthur himself has ever said of his wife... so Constance smiles in a rather wry way, not as sharp as she might with someone who isn't a friend, but her tone is knowing regardless.]
You think it is wrong, for a wife not to love her husband? [And perhaps it's sharp enough anyway that she takes a deep breath, tries again.] Not all marriages are made because both parties are in love. Most women don't have the privilege to choose who they marry. My good fortune was to be married to someone who was never cruel to me, not outright, at least not...
[Not before d'Artagnan. That changed Bonacieux, and he's never treated her the same after.]