Marguerite brought a sob from her breast which was like a sword through Klussman. He smoothed and smoothed her hair.
"But what did I ever do to thee, Marguerite?"
"I always liked you best," she said. "But he was a great lord. The women in barracks are so hateful, and a common soldier is naught."
"You would be the lady of a seignior," hissed Klussman.
"Thou knowest I was fit for that," retorted Marguerite with spirit.
"I know thou wert. It is marrying me that has been thy ruin." He groaned with his head hanging.
"We are not ruined yet," she said, "if you care for me."
"That was a stranger child?" he repeated.
"All the train knew it to be a motherless child. He had no right to thrust it on me."
"I demand no testimony of D'Aulnay's followers," said Klussman roughly.