"Perhaps, Mr. Square-Toes? You know it is the case!" was the vivid answer. "For otherwise, as I like the woman, and now, at all events, she is married--what is against her?"
"I do not trust her," was the measured answer. "And, madam, in these days people are more strait-laced than they were; it is not fitting."
"That for people!" my lady cried with a reckless good humour that would have been striking in one half her age. "People! Odds my life, when did I care for people? But come, I will make a bargain with you. Tit for tat. A Roland for your Oliver! If you will give me your Anne I will give you my Monterey."
"My Anne?" he exclaimed, in a tone of complete bewilderment.
"Yes, your Anne! Come, my Monterey for your Anne!"
There was silence for a moment, and then "I do not at all understand you," he said.
"Don't you? I think you do," she answered lightly. "Look you,
'When William king is William king no more.'
Now, you understand?"
"I understand, my lady, that you are saying things which are not fitting for me to hear," the man answered, in a tone of cold displeasure. "The King, thank God, is well. When he ails, it will be time to talk of his succession."