Bess was pleased with his voice.
“Dan hit you over the head,” she said.
“I can believe that,” quoth Richard, with a smile.
“I picked your pistols out of the holsters, and swore I would shoot him if he struck you again.”
Jeffray’s thoughts were not of himself for the moment. He lay silent, looking up at Bess, still feeling the pressure of her hand upon his shoulder. The room was growing very dark. He could see only her hair as a deep shadow above the white oval of her face.
“You are one of the forest-folk?” he asked.
“I am Bess—Bess Grimshaw.”
“And Ursula?”
“Is my mother. I live with her.”
“And Dan—?”