He shook his head, which drooped on his long and gentle brown neck, sighed, and repeated dreamily:
"She wants to be all alone."
"We'll leave her alone for a little and go and look at the gold."
Meanwhile within the house Mrs. Armine was calling impatiently for her maid.
"For mercy's sake, undress me. I am a mass of dust, and looking perfectly dreadful. Is the bath ready?" she asked, as the girl, who had come running, showed her into a good-sized bedroom.
The maid, who was not the red-eyed maid Nigel had met at the Savoy, shrugged up her small shoulders, and extended her little, greedy hands.
"It is ready, madame; but the water—oh, là, là!"
"What's the matter. What do you mean?"
"The water is the colour of madame's morning chocolate."
"Oh!" said Mrs. Armine, almost with a sound of despair.