"Of course, that's all nonsense--romantic nonsense. You've perhaps
forgotten that I am one of the women who don't stir without their maid."
Cliffe's expression changed. He thrust his hands into his pockets.
"Oh, well, if you must have a maid," he said, dryly, "that settles it. A
maid would be the deuce. And yet--I think I could find you a Bosnian
girl--strong and faithful--"
Their eyes met--his already full of a kind of ownership, tender,
confident, humorous even--hers alive with passionate anger and
resistance.
"
Without a qualm!" she repeated, in a low voice--"without a qualm! Mon
Dieu!"
She turned and looked towards the Adriatic.
"Where are we?" she said, imperiously.
For a gesture of command on Cliffe's part, unseen by her, had sent the
boat eastward, spinning before the wind. The lagoon was no longer
tranquil. It was covered with small waves; and the roar of the outer
sea, though still far off, was already in their ears. The mist lifting
showed white, distant crests of foam on a tumbling field of water, and
to the north, clothed in tempestuous purple, the dim shapes of
mountains.
Kitty raised herself, and beckoned towards the captain of the
bragozzo.
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