Her coif of fine silk was neatly adjusted, and the great robe of marten's fur which cloaked her shoulders was fastened with a jewel of rubies which glowed in the lamplight like a star.
Something chattered beside her.

It was a little brown monkey which had made a nest in the warm bedclothes.
She watched with sharp eyes the setting of the table.

It was a Friday's meal and the guest was a monk, so it followed a fashion, but in that house of wealth, which had links with the ends of the earth, the monotony was cunningly varied.

There were oysters from the Boulogne coast, and lampreys from the Loire, and pickled salmon from England.
There was a dish of liver dressed with rice and herbs in the manner of the Turk, for liver, though contained in flesh, was not reckoned as flesh by liberal churchmen.

There was a roast goose from the shore marshes, that barnacle bird which pious epicures classed as shell-fish and thought fit for fast days.