She gave him one. 'Throw it not to Mistress Dinnage now; she would only scorn your offering.'
Kingston touched the flower with his lips. Deborah blushed.
'If I may not kiss the Rose par excellence,' said he, 'I will kiss "the Rose's" rose.'
'Ye talk nonsense. Poetry does not suit you, King.'
'Ah, I have never written you verses.'
'I have not inspired you, mayhap.'
'Ye are too cold, Deb, save when Adam Sinclair is by. Once ye were all fire and fret; now ye are all snow and sorcery.'
'Strange blending! Have I witched you then?'
'Ay, the first day I came.'
'What worth is witchery?'