“I dream more than I love,” he said; “I do consider my passion.”
“Yet is it a very passion, father. Wherefore wilt thou ever humble thyself?”
“And there is a love betwixt the father and the child,” he continued; and those two kissed each other.
“I would know all these loves,” cried Calote.
“Yet wilt thou do well to pray the Christ that no knight come to woo.”
She hung her head; and the long day trembled to latest dusk.
CHAPTER III
They That Mourn
OW as these two sat silent, the door at the far end of the room, looking on Cornhill, opened, and a man came in and shut it again, and stood in the shadow.