‘Yes, by chance. What brought you here?’
‘Why, you.’
‘Silly! how could you know?’
‘Like a diviner, by the rod, I suppose. That is one of the rewards of fishing.’
‘You speak from knowledge? Ah, you are but a willy-wisp, I fear me.’
‘So God mend me, I am not, Joan. Thou are the first love of mine, as thou shalt be the last.’
‘Not omitting Alse?’
‘Alse!’ (scornfully) ‘She was but a baby.’
‘Well, I will believe you.’
She sighed, thrilling him all through. ‘Joan,’ he whispered; ‘when an oath is taken on the book, one puts one’s lips to it. I swear for evermore to be your most true knight and devout lover.’