And now——
The Prioress sat in her chair of state.
Each moment her face grew calmer and more stern.
The Knight let his eyes dwell on the fingers which once crept so tenderly into his hair.
She hid them beneath her scapulary, as if his gaze scorched them.
He looked at the bosom against which his head had been pressed.
A jewelled cross gleamed, there where his face had laid hidden.
Then the Knight lifted his eyes again to that stern, cold face. Yet still he kept silence.
At length the Prioress spoke.
"So it is you," she said.