French blushed, opened his mouth, shut it again, then he cleared his throat noisily. “Everything you wish, mistress,” he said finally, inwardly cursing his shyness.
Sue perched herself on the table in front of him and enumerated the odds and ends that the Ship required.
Anny looked at the pair shyly from out her corner.
“Ah! but how much of the flannel, mistress?” French was saying.
“Six ells an it pleases you,” Sue replied.
Anny gulped and applied herself industriously to her sewing.
Just then the door opened and John Pattern put in his smiling head.
“Master French,” he called.
French, who had just begun to enjoy himself, looked up with another scowl.
“All’s ready,” said John, “and, if you’s going to get to Tiptree afore eleven, ye better start.”