“Marry!” she said, tossing her head. “They’re good enough for me.”
“Nay, fair one, there you mistake, it’s because they are not good enough for thee that I would quarrel with thee loving them.”
The Spaniard leaned a little forward as he spoke.
Anny laughed uneasily and rose to her feet.
“Ah, well!” she said, “’tis of no account what I think fair or ugly, see how late it is; I must be about my business.”
Dick got up also.
“Look ye, mistress,” he said, “I had almost forgot what I came to see thee for. I sail again for France on Wednesday even.” He paused and looked at the girl for any hint of surprise or disappointment which she might show, but Anny did not look up and betrayed no other interest beyond polite attention.
The Spaniard smiled and his eyes began to sparkle again.
“And, little one,” he went on, “when I sail it will not be on the Coldlight, but the Anny if you will permit me to rename the ship after thee.”