Her mouth took a firm line, and Saltash, glancing at her, began to laugh. "Do you know, Miss Melrose, it's rather curious, but you remind me of Spentoli too in some ways? I don't know if you and Miss Larpent possess the same characteristics, but I imagine you might develop them, given the same conditions."
Sheila stiffened at the words. "I am sure you are quite wrong," she said coldly. "Captain Larpent's daughter is quite obviously a child of impulse. I—am not."
"I think you would be impulsive enough to fight the leopard if he came your way," contended Saltash with idle insistence. "Or perhaps you would charm him. I imagine that might be more in your line."
Again the girl's lip curled. She said nothing for a moment, then deliberately, for the first time in her life, she snubbed him. "No, I should never try to charm—a beast, Lord Saltash."
"You prefer them savage?" countered Saltash.
She made a careless gesture with one hand, without replying. She did not even look towards him. "I think Miss Larpent might be quite clever in that respect," she said. "She is—a born charmer."
"By Jove!" he said. "What a cruel compliment!"
Sheila said nothing. She was watching a small boat rowing steadily towards them through the dark water, with eyes that were grave and fixed.
Saltash's look followed hers, and he grimaced to himself, oddly, wryly, as a man who accomplishes a task for which he has no liking. Then in a moment he turned the conversation. "Did you ever meet Rozelle Daubeni, the enchantress?"
Sheila's soft eyes came to him at the sudden question. "No. I have heard of her. I have never met her. I don't want to meet her. Why?"