“Then, you’d better get out of it,” was the retort.
“I daren’t take Ermine, after that,” said Stephen, rather sorrowfully, “The only hope would be that she might be so changed, nobody would know her; and then, as my wife, she might pass unharmed But the risk seems too great.”
“She’s scarcely changed enough for that,” replied Leuesa. “Very likely she would not be recognised by those to whom she was a comparative stranger; but such as had known her well would guess in a moment. Otherwise—”
“Then her name would tell tales,” suggested Stephen.
“Oh, you might change that,” said Roscius. “Call her Emma or Aymeria—folks would never think.”
“And tell lies?” responded Stephen.
“Why, you’d never call that telling lies, surely?”
“It’s a bit too like it to please me. Is Father Dolfin still at Saint Frideswide’s?”
“Ay, he’s still there, but he’s growing an old man, and does not get outside much now. He has resigned Saint Aldate’s.”
“Then that settles it. He’d know.”