They were gossips, these two, men of animal energy who understood each other, and looked at life with the same shrewd cynicism. Their eyes met whimsically. Neither had any solid respect for the dignity of the other. Their appetites and prejudices were alike; they met on common ground and made life a gloating, full-blooded jest.
“You ride early, Master Warden.”
“All for the joy of being shrived by you, Dom Geraint.”
“Tut-tut—I am busy to-day. It would be a long affair.”
“Not so long, either; for you have only to name me any sin, good sir, and I will say that I have committed it.”
“What a mass of guilt is here—riding in scarlet!”
“The black coat has its red in the lining!”
They laughed in each other’s faces.
“You will come in and drink some of our ale?”
“Such brown Paradise is not to be despised. I have an hour to spare.”