Marie stopped and looked long and fixedly through the open door at the rain. “Perhaps you know,” she said, as she resumed her walk, “perhaps you know some of these fables, so that you can tell them.”
“Belike I do.”
“Concerning Ermegaard Lynow?”
“Concerning her in particular.”
“Well, let’s have it.”
“Why, it had to do with one of the Höghs—Sti, I think his name was—tall, red-haired, pale—”
“Thanks, but all that I know already.”
“And do you know about the poison, too?”
“Nay, nothing.”