"I should like him to see you tonight, child. He would be more malleable set near such a fire. Your cheeks are burning bright! As for your big eyes, I believe you burnish them. Do you know how handsome you are, I wonder?"
"No one has ever told me that but you, ma'am," said Isoult, demure.
"Pooh, your glass will have told you. They don't lie."
"I never had a glass till I came here. Not even at the convent."
"And did you never get close enough to use somebody's eyes?" said
Maulfry, with a sly look.
Isoult had nothing to say to this. Touch her on the concrete of her love, and she was always dumb.
"Well then, I will stay flattering you, and advise," Maulfry pursued. "When that august one chooses to unveil, do you present yourself on knees as you now are. In two minutes you will not be on your own, but on his, if I know mankind."
Isoult changed the talk.
"Do you know, or can you tell me, when my lord will come out, ma'am?" she ventured.
"Come out, child? Out of what? Out of a box?" Maulfry cried in mock rage. "'Tis my belief you know as much as I do. 'Tis my belief you have been at a keyhole."