"'Pon my honour, I 've done nothing. Just waited hours."
"Hours, indeed!" said the girl, scornfully.
"It seemed hours," answered Jack, insinuatingly. "It seemed hours—Miss—Lucy Pryor."
"Lucy Pryor? Oh! you got that out of the book! That was Maman's name before she married. My name's Lachesnais."
"Beg pardon?"
"La-ches-nais. Marjolaine Lachesnais. You don't pronounce the middle s."
"Are you French?"
"My father was." She had filled the tumbler with claret and was holding it out to Jack. "Never mind about all that. Make haste."
Jack rose to his feet, tumbler in hand.
"Marjolaine—? That means Marjoram, does n't it?"