"The Dromios," said one of the women.
"Satan's Twins," laughed another.
"A pair of black Knaves," echoed the third.
The man laughed, but said nothing.
I put my hand through Moore's arm and swung him around.
"Why not add us to your own Knave and then give us a Queen apiece?" I asked.
She, who had spoken last, clapped her hands.
"Delicious!" she exclaimed. "Will monsieur be my Knave?"
The voice was very soft and musical, and I saw Moore glance quickly at her.
"That will I, my lady," said I; and stepped forward and kissed her hand; then drew it through my arm.