He remained standing by the stem of the proa, his glance roving investigatingly. ‘Very well, mademoiselle, so be it,’ he snapped. ’ ‘Yes, indeed,’ agreed Lucilla enthusiastically. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service. From McClintock's came an infernal tinkletinkle, tump-tump! There was no composing with such a sound hammering upon the ear.
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