Page:Joan, the curate.djvu/187

Rh that craves a kiss whene'er he sees me. You cannot understand their taste, sir, doubtless? For you a woman must have soft hands and black eyes, like Mistress Joan Langney?"

There was something surprising in the sort of curious scorn with which she put these questions, as if interested, though somewhat disdainfully, in his answer. Tregenna, who was leaning back on the settle, as easily as if enjoying his rest in an inn, smiled a little.

"Ay, truly I do not know where you would find a fairer specimen of womanhood than the vicar's daughter."

His face softened as he spoke. Ann came a few steps nearer to him, watching him with a slight frown.

"Yet she hath small liking for you. She is on our side, you know. 'Twas she that warned us of your coming with the soldiers."

"She will no longer be on your side when she hears that you have murdered me, Mistress Ann."

"Murdered you?"

"I understood that to be your intention."

"You take it coolly."

"'Tis as well to save my heat till 'tis wanted."