I should have remembered that Godwin would never have presumed so far." "Godwin," she said, tapping her foot upon the ground, "if he gave a promise, would keep it in the spirit as well as in the letter." "I suppose so.

See what it is for an erring man to have a saint for a brother and a rival! Nay, be not angry with me, Rosamund, who cannot tread the path of saints." "That I believe, but at least, Wulf, there is no need to mock those who can." "I mock him not.

I love him as well as--you do." And he watched her face.
It never changed, for in Rosamund's heart were hid the secret strength and silence of the East, which can throw a mask impenetrable over face and features.
"I am glad that you love him, Wulf.

See to it that you never forget your love and duty." "I will; yes--even if you reject me for him." "Those are honest words, such as I looked to hear you speak," she replied in a gentle voice.

"And now, dear Wulf, farewell, for I am weary--" "To-morrow--" he broke in.
"Ay," she answered in a heavy voice.