Believe me, I am very
grateful. I shall always be grateful."
"But if it's also your intention always to think of me as a thief
and a pirate, faith, ye may keep your gratitude for all the good
it's like to do me."
A livelier colour crept into her cheeks. There was a perceptible
heave of the slight breast that faintly swelled the flimsy bodice
of white silk. But if she resented his tone and his words, she
stifled her resentment. She realized that perhaps she had, herself,
provoked his anger. She honestly desired to make amends.
"You are mistaken," she began. "It isn't that."
But they were fated to misunderstand each other.
Jealousy, that troubler of reason, had been over-busy with his wits
as it had with hers.
"What is it, then?" quoth he, and added the question: "Lord Julian?"
She started, and stared at him blankly indignant now.
"Och, be frank with me," he urged her, unpardonably. "'Twill be
a kindness, so it will."
For a moment she stood before him with quickened breathing, the
colour ebbing and flowing in her cheeks.
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