“To the sun.”
“Hè! You will be sunburned. Whose man are you?”
“Lord Love’s.”
The girls laughed for joy in him. “Hè! We see his collar around your neck! What does he make you do?”
“He makes me to serve a lady.”
“‘Ladies!’ We do not like ‘ladies’! They are as proud as they were made of sugar!”
“In the court of Lord Love,” said Garin, “every woman mounts into a lady.”
One of the girls laughed more silently than the other. “Oh, the pleasant fool!” she said. “You go on a long pilgrimage when you go to Compostella. But to that court would be the longest I have ever heard tell of!”
The other dug her bare foot into the ground. “If you are in no hurry, the house can give you work to do, and for it supper and lodging.”