"Enough and sufficient," quoth the smith.
Now that he was on his feet again he was once more the man. He and the duke looked at each other almost as equals.
"Tell me about it," said Louis.
"Well, I'll tell you," Gaspard began; "you see, I'm a smith."
"But incapable of forging a chain strong enough to hold a woman."
"I'm not so sure," Gaspard replied. "It was a good chain."
He put out his left wrist and examined it. The steel handcuff was still there. Up and back from it ran the chain which the smith had been carrying over his shoulder. He hauled the chain down. He displayed the other end of it, still ornamented by the companion bracelet.
"What happened? How did she get out of it?" queried the duke.
"She got thin," Gaspard responded with melancholy. "She didn't want me to work. She wanted the money that I could earn. Yes. She even wanted me to work. But it had to be her kind of work; something—something—how shall I say it?—something that wouldn't interfere with our love."
"And you didn't love her?"