“Ah! Then Kit is the devil.”
“Indeed, Kit is not. Kit is what the devil comes between.”
“Wait, now. I scent a quibble. Kit stands for Christopher, and Kit stands for Katherine—both man and woman. They go arm in arm.”
“Not they. Why, Chris could never look at a woman without blushing.”
“And how about Kate?”
“O, she! She’d go arm in arm with a pair of breeches.”
My lord laughed, half vexedly: “She never could, you know.”
Moll turned on him.
“’Twas you, not me, called Kit the devil. Why don’t you answer for your own?” and, with a manner of playful fretfulness, she began to tease and rally him sotto voce.
Hamilton looked, with a grin, at his cousin, then moved to rejoin her. She stood with set lips and a disdainful frown on her brow.