Renée added: “Let us hope she will not escape being seen.”
“I give her my benediction,” said Nevil.
“And I,” said Renée; “and adieu to her, if you please. Look for Roland.”
“You remind me; I have but a few instants.”
“M. Nevil, you are a preux of the times of my brother’s patronymic. And there is my Roland awaiting us. Is he not handsome?”
“How glad you are to have him to relieve guard!”
Renée bent on Nevil one of her singular looks of raillery. She had hitherto been fencing at a serious disadvantage.
“Not so very glad,” she said, “if that deprived me of the presence of his friend.”
Roland was her tower. But Roland was not yet on board. She had peeped from her citadel too rashly. Nevil had time to spring the flood of crimson in her cheeks, bright as the awning she reclined under.
“Would you have me with you always?”