The woman looked as much troubled as one of her hard features could look.
“No, miss, I don’t think I could,” she said.
“You are afraid?” gently.
“I’m not afraid of him,” with some asperity. “Bless the man, no! I’m not afraid of no man nowhere! But I am afraid of the missus?”
“Ah! And you don’t think that you could tell him that I wish to see him upstairs? And then when he comes up and finds the room empty—that I shall be down from my bedroom in five minutes?”
“It wouldn’t be true.”
“No,” softly. “Perhaps not.”
Modest Ann looked dreadfully perplexed.
“You’ll get me into trouble, miss,” she said. “I know you will.”
“Then I’ll get you out again,” the fair tempter retorted. “I will indeed, Ann.”