“I am suspect, and have made you share my outlawry—is that it?”
He answered with sudden passion.
“No.”
She surrendered to him of a sudden.
“The cross? Oh, very well. What have you to say to me?”
“What a man with the heart of a man might say. Am I so poor a thing that I cannot take part in a quarrel?”
“Ah!”
He turned abruptly, went to the cell, and came back with a heavy winter cloak.
“The dew is heavy on such a night.”
“Yes.”