The man who answered was a Norman; and short of stature, and wrinkled and low- browed of feature, with a thatch of hair and a full beard, he seemed the embodiment of the women's apprehensions.

Moreover, his _patois_ of the cider-land was little better than German to them; their southern, softer tongue was sheer Italian to him.

But he seemed not ill-disposed, or Mademoiselle's air overawed him; and presently she made him understand, and with a nod he descended to carry her message.
Then Mademoiselle's heart began to beat; and beat more quickly when she heard _his_ step--alas! she knew it already, knew it from all others--on the stairs.

The table was set, the card must be played, to win or lose.
It might be that with the low opinion he held of women he would think her reconciled to her lot; he would think this an overture, a step towards kinder treatment, one more proof of the inconstancy of the lower and the weaker sex, made to be men's playthings.

And at that thought her eyes grew hot with rage.