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“I am sure Miss Hare always sticks up for herself,” said the girl by Law’s side. “Going to be married in a veil, like one of the quality!”
“And so would I, if it was me,” cried Polly. “The quality! What are they better than us, only they’ve got a pocketful of money. If I was the Queen, I’d do away with them all. I’d be the Queen, and all the rest should be the people. There shouldn’t be one more than another, or one greater than another, only me. And then shouldn’t I do whatever I pleased, and cut off their heads if they said a word!”
This instinctive perception of the secret of despotism made Law laugh, who thought he knew a great deal better. “It would be a funny world with Queen Polly over it,” he said. “I hope you’d take me for your prime minister.”
Polly gave him a look of saucy malice. “I’d take the Captain,” she said.
“Has he been here to-night, Emma? I think he’s always coming here,” said Law, under his breath. It was a kind of growl which the young fellow gave out when he spoke low, in the voice which not very long ago had been treble, a soprano, as clear and pure as Lottie’s—but it was extremely bass now.