She spoke with a slightly foreign accent, drawing out every syllable with quaint directness.
“Have you the key?”
“Here it is, sir. Fie, now, I have dropped it; how very clumsy!”
She began to draw her skirts this way and that in the narrow passage, peering for the thing in the dark, and even sweeping the floor with her hands. John Gore bent down to help her. And in the quest the woman’s hair brushed up against his cheek.
She gave a sudden, thrilling little laugh, and took John Gore softly by the ear.
“So you have come to join us, Signor Giovanni? That is very sweet of you. We need brave men.”
To be held by the ear by a waiting-woman surprised the sea-captain for the moment. He took a firm but meaning hold upon the lady’s wrist. But with the other hand she put back the hood of the cloak she wore.
“Ah, how good! I have played a trick upon you both. Have you never been held by the ear, Sir John, by some pretty little waiting-maid? Now do not pretend, Sir John; I shall be able to tell a different tale.”
She seemed to grow taller suddenly, and to radiate splendor even in the dusk. Her voice changed also from a mincing treble to a full contralto that seemed made for song.
John Gore knew that it was Hortense.