I need you now.' 'Do you want me to-- ?' Gilles honestly thought he was to kill the Count.
She undeceived him soon.
'To kill Richard, Gilles?
Nay, man, he is not for your killing.' She gave a short laugh, not very pleasant for her lover to hear.

But Gilles, for all that, put hand to hilt.

The Count of Poictou stooped at the entry and saw them together.
It wanted but that to blow the embers.

Something tigerish surged in him, some gust of jealousy, some arrogant tide in the blood not all clean.

He moved forward like a wind and caught the girl up in his arms, lifted her off her feet, smothered her cry.