’ Her face fell. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. ‘You are jealous!’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed simply. Opposite to her was a sallow-visaged young man, whose small tie seemed like a smudge of obtusively shiny black across the front of a high close-drawn collar. "I will swear it upon the cross!" "His name, then?" demanded the knight. She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers. All the money he earned—serving McClintock and the muse—could be laid away.
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