'I'm no more of a duchess than you are,' she said.
'Good God!' said Hornblower. 'Who — who are you, then?'
'Kitty Cobham.'
The name meant a little to Hornblower, but only a little.
'You're too young for that name to have any memories for you, Mr Hornblower, I see. It's five years since last I trod the boards.'
That was it. Kitty Cobham the actress.
'I can't tell it all now,' said the duchess — the Spanish boat was dancing over the waves towards them. 'But when the French marched into Florence that was only the last of my misfortunes. I was penniless when I escaped from them. Who would lift a finger for a onetime actress — one who had been betrayed and deserted? What was I to do? But a duchess — that was another story. Old Dalrymple at Gibraltar could not do enough for the Duchess of Wharfedale.'
'Why did you choose that title?' asked Hornblower in spite of himself.
'I knew of her,' said the duchess with a shrug of the shoulders. 'I knew her to be what I played her as. That was why I chose her — I always played character parts better than straight comedy. And not nearly so tedious in a long role.'
'But my despatches!' said Hornblower in a sudden panic of realization. 'Give them back, quick.'