"Pray as you please, and I'll see no harm comes to the Mistress of Rozel." He was out of his bearings and impatient.

Religion to him was a dull recreation invented chiefly for women.

She became plain enough now.
"'Tis no images nor religion that stands between us," she answered, "though they might well do so.

It is that I do not love you, Monsieur of Rozel." His face, which had slowly clouded, suddenly cleared.

"Love! Love!" He laughed good-humouredly.