It seemed to her that she put out her hand and that it closed upon a robe. It seemed to her that she put her forehead to this. She said, “Mother!” It seemed to her that hands came down to her and touched her, that there was a breathing, that a voice said, “O Thyself!”
She lay against trees in darkness and in ache.
Somerville found her here. “Asleep? Art asleep?”
She sat up. “No. Awake. I have done a villain thing.”
He regarded her with his odd, twitching face, somewhat pale to-day, and the smile a dry grimace. “If thou hast so, thou art like to pay for it! All came out. Your monk broke cloister and told it at town cross.”
“Yea, did he? He has manhood.”
“There was all town to hear. Father Edmund tossed thy name forth like a ball.”
She moistened her lips. “So?”
“Then the monk told it in castle hall. Montjoy believed.”