Why have the servant when you can have the mistress?

She returns an ironical smile to me, her curvaceous outline perfectly visible through her thin tunic, in the sunlight coming through the door.

"Indeed, general, you are an astonishing man! You have at your disposal the best room in my house; will you go to sleep in the stables and lay on the straw? My cook will prepare his most savoury dishes for you; will you run to a tavern and ask for a plate of porridge? No, you certainly won't. Then, why do you care about that wench?"

The "wench" is for now wiping herself hastily before getting dressed again. Through her disarrayed hair falling on her face, I catch the hateful glance she sends to her mistress. I perfectly understand what the noble lady's language means.