Fell a long silence. Then: “Where is Madame Pritchard?”
“The masther has never been married, Tammy.”
“What? Has he, then, in his house none but serving women?”
“Ssh! Don’t talk like that, Tammy. Of course he hasn’t.”
“Strange,” murmured Tamea thoughtfully. “He is different from other men of his race. Have no women sought his favor?”
Julia was embarrassed and exasperated. “How the divil should I know?” she protested indignantly.
“You live in this house. You are his servant. Have you not ears? Are you blind?”
“I never shpy on the masther.”
“Perhaps,” Tamea suggested, “it is because Monsieur Dan Pritchard has a hatred of women.”
“Sorra bit o’ that.”