She was plucking at green leaves and would not spare him.
"That your father would not have had you speak to a traitor's son."
"Bah! But my father died four years ago."
"The traitor's son remains."
"We cannot answer for our fathers' sins. As long as you are not a traitor, what matter?"
For answer he silently raised her little hand to his lips.
She was smiling as presently she withdrew it. So, after all, the lover had come.
"You will be my friend?" she asked simply; but her eyes, under veiled lashes, flashed with coquetry.
"To death if you will have me."
"In life I should prefer it. I need a friend, sir."