She muttered:
'There was a great crowd, a great cry. One smote me on the arm. And then this quiet here.'
She uncovered her face and sat looking at the ground. Her furs were all grey, she had had none new for four years, and they were tight to her young body that had grown into them. The roses embroidered on her glove had come unstitched, and, against the steely grey of the river, her face in its whiteness had the tint of mother of pearl and an expression of engrossed and grievous absence.
'I have fared on foul ways this journey,' she said.
'Thy father's barns we will build again,' the King answered. 'You shall have twice the sheep to your dower. Show me your eyes.'
'I had not thought to have seen the King so stern,' she answered.
Culpepper caught at the mule's bridle.
'Y' are mad,' he muttered. 'Let us begone.'
'Nay, in my day,' the King answered, 'y'ad found me more than kind.'
She raised her eyes to his face, steadfast, enquiring and unconcerned. He bent his great bulk downwards and kissed her upon the temple.