“You shall have one week, my friend.”
“A week! O my master!”
“A woman’s mind runs to gauds and tricks and rites, but in a week we two shall be married, and you may have ceremonies for a year afterwards if you wish for them.”
Lavarcham wrung her hands.
“O my sweet lord——”
“It shall be so,” said the king.
Lavarcham sat dumb.
“In this house,” he continued impatiently, “refreshments are long in appearing, and after those excitements and battlings we need them.”
“They only wait permission to enter,” she stammered, and clapped her hands.