"No flesh is eaten here; we sacrifice no life of living thing to sustain our own wretched selves."
"No meat! not of any kind! not even on feast-days!"
"My boy, you will be better without it—it nourishes all sorts of bad passions, pride, cruelty, impurity, all are born of the flesh; and see, it is not needed. I am well and strong and never ill."
"But I should soon be," said Evroult.
"Nay, I like cakes, nuts, and blackberries better," said Richard.
"Quite right, my son; now go and play in the valley beneath, until noonday, when you may take your noon meat."
They lay in the shade of a tree. It was one of the last days of summer, and all seemed pleasant—the murmur of the brook and the like.
"I can never bear this long," said Evroult.
"I think it very pleasant," said Richard; "do not ask me to go away."
Evroult made no reply.