True to his guidance, he blinked.
'Go home to your brother, my daughter; go home to Saint-Pol-la-Marche.
At the worst, remember that there are always two arks for a woman in flood-time, a convent and a bed.' 'I shall never choose a convent,' said Jehane.
'I think,' said the abbot, 'that you are perfectly wise.' I suppose the alternative struck a sudden terror into her; for the abbot abruptly records in his book that 'here her spirit seemed to flit out of her, and she began to tremble very much, and in vain to contend with tears.

I had her all dissolved at my feet within a few moments.

She was very young, and seemed lost.' 'Come, come,' he said, 'you have shown yourself a brave girl these two days.

It is not every maid can sacrifice herself for a Count of Poictou, the eldest son of a king.

Come, come, let us have no more of this.' He hoped, no doubt, to brace her by a roughness which was far from his nature; and it is possible that he succeeded in heading off a mutiny of the nerves.