“Shadows?”
“Yes”—and her courage came to her—“I am thinking Bertrand, of my father, and of Robin hiding in the cloisters of Lehon.”
He dropped his hands and drew back a step, not harshly or selfishly, but with the reverence of a man who could behold the same vision as her tenderness beheld.
“Tiphaïne, I never had a home.”
“No.”
“They always hated me. And yet—”
“And yet you feel what I feel, the sacredness that watches over home. Bertrand, there is my father; my heart goes out to him; I remember how he looked at me when I told him the truth of Robin’s shame.”
His face was more tender towards her than before.
“He loved the lad.”
“And now he looks to me for all the love he lost at Mivoie. To-night he will kiss me and think me all his own.”