The interrupter held his ledger in hand and diddled from foot to foot, as though being held from a cabinet of ease. “Oh, Ser Maltusz, I crave pardon, but I cannot carry through this posting according to system until I have a ruling on where falls the sea-loss in such a case.”
“Hm, let me see—why, stupidity, look there! It is plainly stated that no offer had been made on the said lost bales. They were therefore couvertine goods still, and not regarding whether the loss were caused by piracy or not, it must fall there.” He turned back to Rodvard. “Do not try to translate into our money, for that is the function of another. You are expected to finish this manifest by evening.”
“I have never done this—”
“Work is prayer. There is the lamp.”
19
TWO CHOICES
The stern-faced mattern’s name was Dame Quasso; she told Mircella to show Lalette to a small brown room angled by a dormer, where a bed with one blanket, a chair and a chiffonier were the only furniture.
“The dress-room is down here,” said the servant, pointing. “The regulation is that all demoiselles stir themselves together at the ringing of the morning-bell, so that the day’s tasks may be assigned.”
“Why?” said Lalette, sitting down on the edge of the bed (so glad to hear a voice without malice or innuendo in it that the words hardly mattered).
The eyes were round and the mouth was round; a series of rounds. Said Mircella; “It is the regulation. . . . You must dress your best for evening. It is the day of the diaconals.”
“Ah?”