She flushed again as she heard me, and plucked her tuft of grass.
"Indeed," I ended, "I believe his Grace spoke no more than the truth; I've never seen a man more in love." "And you know well what it is to be in love, don't you ?" "Very well," I answered calmly, although I thought that the taunt might have been spared.

"Therefore it may well be that some day I shall kiss the hand of her Grace the Duchess." "You think I desire it ?" she asked.
"I think most ladies would." "I don't desire it." She sprang up and stamped her foot on the ground, crying again, "Simon, I do not desire it.

I wouldn't be his wife.

You smile! You don't believe me ?" "No offer is refused until it's made," said I, and, with a bow that asked permission, I took a draught of the ale.
She looked at me in great anger, her cheek suffused with underlying red and her dark eyes sparkling.
"I wish you hadn't saved me," she said in a fury.
"That we had gone forward to Calais ?" I asked maliciously.
"Sir, you're insolent." She flung the reproof at me like a stone from a catapult.

But then she repeated, "I wouldn't be his wife." "Well, then, you wouldn't," said I, setting down the jug and rising.
"How shall we pass the day?
For we mustn't go to Dover till nightfall." "I must be all day here with you ?" she cried in visible consternation.
"You must be all day here, but you needn't be with me.