A worthy man, but loutish and slow like one of his own hookers.

Yet when I saw him on the plainstones by the English harbour I knew that he was a weapon made for my hand." Her voice had become even and gentle as of one who remembers far-away things.

The Cluniac, having dipped his hands in a silver basin, was drying them in the brazier's heat.

Presently he set to picking his teeth daintily with a quill, and fell into the listener's pose.

From long experience he knew the atmosphere which heralds confidences, and was willing to humour the provider of such royal fare.
"You have never journeyed to King's Lynn ?" said the voice from the bed.
"There is little to see there but mudbars and fens and a noisy sea.
There I dwelt when I was fifteen years of age, a maid hungry in soul and body.