“’Twould not be enough for me anyway,” she said, fixing a stray curl over her ear as she spoke.
Sue looked at her strangely. It was impossible not to like this beautiful wild little creature, in whom her uncle, Gilbot, had taken such an interest. Yet she could not help wishing that the younger girl had been more careful. She was so young, so very beautiful, and the company which came to the Ship was not the best in the world.
Sue shrugged her shoulders. It was not her business, she told herself, but her eyes followed Anny almost pityingly as the little maid moved across the room to speak to Gilbot.
“Master Gilbot,” Anny said, “should we prepare a bedchamber for the gentleman?”
Old Gilbot looked at her over the rim of the tankard; then he took one of her hands.
“Thou art a pretty wench, Anny,” he observed solemnly. “Will ’ee fetch me another stoup of liquor, lass?” he added, brightening up in anticipation.
Anny did as she was told and then repeated her question.
“Eh? Bedchamber? Eh? What?” said the old man, his brows screwed into knotted lines, and he seemed troubled; after a few minutes, however, “Oh! ashk Hal,” he said, his face clearing. “Ashk Hal everything.”
He looked across at the boy affectionately.
“Shly dog,” he murmured, “keepsh me in liquor all day long sho he can get the Ship. Ho-ho-ho!” he laughed, shaking all over. “Shly dog—shly dog.”