“It is a book of mine,” she quietly answered, “which I left here a short season agone, when the boy’s cry started me.”
“Hast read it?” asked Lord Marnell, no less harshly.
“I have read it many times, good my Lord.”
“And I pray you for to tell me whence you had it, good my Lady?” said he, rather ironically.
Margery was silent. She was determined to bear the blame alone, and not to compromise either Pynson or Carew.
“Had you this book since you came hither?” said Lord Marnell, varying the form of his question, when he saw she did not answer.
“No, my Lord. I brought it with me from home.”
And the word “home” almost brought the tears into her eyes.
“Your father—Sir Geoffrey—knew he thereof?”
“He did,” said Margery, “and rebuked me sharply therefor.”