"I shouldn't wish to do that."
"No, I knew! Still—"
He took out a handkerchief and touched his lips and his forehead with it.
"She has been really so wonderful!" he said—"waiting on him hand and foot, and giving herself no rest night or day."
"Well, but her maid? Wasn't she able to be of service?"
"Her maid? What maid?"
"Her French maid."
A smile of pity moved the corners of the young man's mouth.
"She hasn't got one. She sent her away long ago. Merely to please him. Oh, I assure you it isn't all milk and honey with Mr. Armine."
Isaacson motioned towards the inner part of the vessel.