Madame, who up to the moment had seemed half-amort, rose hurriedly all at once and swept her stranger a magnificent courtsey.
“I feel already that I have known monsieur for years,” she said, hard winter in her voice.
Mr Sheridan burst out laughing.
“Come, come,” he cried, “a mistake isn’t malice. There was never one yet that sinned against nature. Zounds, madame, when the respite arrives, we bear no grudge against the executioner! I can vouch for my lord that he had no thought of offending.”
Ned looked enormously amazed.
“None whatever,” he said. “Why should I, when I have not even the honour of madame’s acquaintance?”
This was certainly ambiguous. Mr Sheridan laughed again like a very groundling.
“Without affront,” said he, “let me ask your lordship a question. Why have you haunted madame, who is plaguily afeared of ghosts?”
“Haunted!” exclaimed Ned.
“Haunted,” replied the other. “Or is it, perhaps, one of madame’s sacred charges that is the object of your visitations?”