"Well," said De Lacy, "I, too, would linger if it meant a ride with the Countess of Clare and the favor that implies."
"Oh, as to that, he is favored no more than a dozen others. What irks me is that she favors him at all."
"What would you say if I, too, tried for a smile?" De Lacy asked.
De Wilton ran his eyes very deliberately over the handsome figure beside him.
"That you will win it," he said, "and may be more than one—and the chains that trail behind… Beware, the chains are very heavy."
De Lacy shook his head. "Strong they may be—strong as life—but heavy, never."
Sir Ralph looked at him in wondering surprise—then clapped him on the shoulder.
"French skies and French blood! Pardieu, man, go in and show this Darby and the others how the game is played."
"But the chains———"
"Wrap them about her also. And by Heaven, why not?—the last of the Lacys and the last of the Clares. St. George, it would be like old times in Merry England."