“Oh, but I can’t! Helena would never forgive me. I’m a friend of hers, you know—of the Marchesa di San Servolo. Really you can’t come through here.”
“Do you think you can stop me?”
“There isn’t room for you to get over as long as I stand here—and the wall’s too high to climb, isn’t it?”
Lynborough studied the wall; it was twice the height of the wall on the other side; it might be possible to scale, but difficult and laborious; nor would he look imposing while struggling at the feat.
“You’ll have to go round by the road,” remarked Norah, breaking into a smile.
Lynborough was enjoying the conversation just as much as she was—but he wanted two things; one was victory, the other coffee.
“Can’t I persuade you to move?” he said imploringly. “I really don’t want to have to resort to more startling measures.”
“You surely wouldn’t use force against a girl, Lord Lynborough!”
“I said startling measures—not violent ones,” he reminded her. “Are your nerves good?”
“Excellent, thank you.”