"Well!" said he. "Have you no word?"
None; she moved her lips, she could not speak.
"Come," said he, after another pause, "they who ride pillion ride thus—the man has his leather belt, and to that the woman holds. Urith, if we are to ride together on life's road, lay hold of my belt."
She held out her hands, still gropingly.
"Stay!" she said, suddenly recovering herself with a start. "You forgot; you do not know me. Look at my hands, they are still torn; I did that in one of my fits of rage. Do you not fear to take me when I go, when crossed, into such mad passion as these hands show?"
Anthony laughed. "I fear! I!"
Then she put her right hand to lay hold of his girdle, but caught and drew out the gloves.
"I have these again!" she exclaimed. "Even these gloves cast at me in defiance. Well, it matters not now. I refused to take them up, yet I could not shake them off; now I take them and keep them. I accept the challenge." She grasped him firmly by the girdle, and with the other hand thrust the gloves into her bosom.
"I do not understand you," said Anthony.
"There is no need that you should."