Lafarge burst out laughing.
“Well, by the Lord, but you’re a swashbuckler, Joan—”
“M’sieu’—”
“Oh, nonsense! I tell you, nonsense! Let’s have over with this, my girl. You’re the cleverest woman on the continent, but there’s a limit to everything. Here, tell me now, and if you answer me straight I’ll say no more.”
“M’sieu’, I am here to consider conditions, not to—” “Oh, for God’s sake, Joan! Tell me now, have you got anything contraband on board? There’ll be a nasty mess about the thing, for me and all of us, and why can’t we compromise? I tell you honestly we’d have come on, if I hadn’t seen you aboard.”
Joan turned her head back with a laugh. “My poor m’sieu’! You have such bad luck. Contraband? Let me see? Liquors and wines and tobacco are contraband. Is it not so?” Lafarge nodded.
“Is money—gold—contraband?”
“Money? No; of course not, and you know it. Why won’t you be sensible? You’re getting me into a bad hole, and—”
“I want to see how you’ll come out. If you come out well—” She paused quaintly.
“Yes, if I come out well—”