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She held the back of the chair for him to be seated.

'I'll sit down after you,' said Hornblower; it went against the grain to have Maria waiting on him.

'Oh, no,' said Maria. 'I have your breakfast to attend to--only the old woman is up as yet.'

She coaxed him into the chair. Hornblower felt her kiss the top of his head, felt a momentary touch of her cheek against his, but before he could seize her, reaching behind him, she was gone. She left behind her the memory of something between a sniff and a sob; the opening of the door into the kitchen admitted a smell of cooking, the sizzling of something in a pan, and a momentary burst of conversation between Maria and the old woman. Then in came Maria, her rapid steps indicating that the plate she held was too hot to be comfortable. She dropped it in front of him, a vast rump steak, still sizzling on the plate.

'There, dear,' she said, and busied herself with putting the rest of the meal within his reach, while Hornblower looked down at the steak with some dismay.