"So seek I vengeance!"
"For him that questeth after vengeance this fair world can hold nought beside."
"So give me vengeance, nought else seek I of this world!"
"Ah, poor soul—poor man that might be, so do I pity thee!"
"I seek no man's pity."
"But I am a woman, so shall I pity thee alway!"
Now as I prepared to climb through the lattice she, beholding the sword where it yet lay, stooped and, taking it up, sheathed it. "This was thine own once, I've heard," says she. "Take it, Martin Conisby, keep it clean, free from dishonour and leave thy vengeance to God."
"Not so!" says I, shaking my head. "I have my knife, 'tis weapon better suited to my rags!" So saying, I clambered out through the lattice even as I had come. Being upon the terrace, I glanced up to find her leaning to watch me and with the moon bright on her face.
"Live you for nought but vengeance?" she questioned softly.
"So aid me God!" says I.