“The weaver doesn’t speak English, lady,” explained the steward. “Can you tell her what I said?” He translated my compliment. She turned to him and let out a string of rippling Welsh and then nodded at me. He looked slightly perturbed. “What is it?” I asked. “She wishes you success this evening, lady, and happiness in the future.” He smiled a little too deliberately. If that was all she said, why did he seem uncomfortable? As we were leaving the building, I drew close to Miss Falconer. “What did she really say?” Miss Falconer’s cheeks were a touch pinker than usual. “She said that she hopes
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