"I think I was not quite myself.

I must have been in a long swoon.

There was smoke also rising round me when last I knew anything." Now she slipped from the bedstead and set her feet on the deck, facing us.

I saw her look pass quickly over our dress, and minded that we were in no holiday trim.

She saw Bertric in the thrall's dress, and Dalfin in his torn and scorched and sea-stained green hunting tunic and leather hose, and myself only in the Norse dress, and that war torn and grimed with the fight in the hall, which seemed so many years ago now, and with the long sea struggle that came thereafter.