It was a long time since I had heard you sing: "'I was a ruffler of Flanders, And fought for a florin's hire.
You were the dame of my captain And sang to my heart's desire.' "But that is the balladist's notion.

The truth is that you were a lady at the Court of Clovis, and I was a heathen captive.

I heard you sing a Christian hymn--and asked for baptism." By a great effort he managed to look as if he did not mean it.
But she did not seem over-pleased with his fancy, for, the surprise fading from her face, "Oh, that was the way you remembered!" she said.
"Perhaps it was not that way alone.

You won't despise me for being mawkish to-night ?" he asked.

"I haven't had the chance for so long." The night air wrapped them warmly, and the balm of the little breezes that stirred the foliage around them was the smell of damask roses from the garden.