| "I may not love thee; For thou art far as yon star, above me." |
Guly's attack had not been a severe one, and he was once more performing his usual duties.
One day as he sat writing, the dwarf with a chuckle made his way to his side, and stood there on his crooked legs panting heavily.
"Hih, hih, Monsieur, God spare you yet? God spares the good. Long time, Monsieur, since I saw you."
"Long time, indeed, Richard; I scarcely knew what had become of you; I am glad to see you among the living."
"Mean that, Monsieur?"
"Every word of it."
"Miss me, Monsieur?"
"Truly I have."
"Good!"