“I shall go with you, Marpasse,” she said.
The big woman shrugged her shoulders.
“Bah, I can as well take one of the others with me. They would play the part better, and look less dangerous.”
Denise kept her eyes from Aymery, as though her pride had set itself a pilgrimage, and would not see anything that might hinder it.
“Say what you please, I shall go with you, as I promised.”
Marpasse nodded her head, and seemed to consider the situation. Biting her lips, she looked from Aymery to Denise. Neither of them helped her, and Marpasse could have stamped her foot at the man, and told him what to do. “Fool, take her away from me, and hold her fast!” She shrugged her broad shoulders, and laughed a little mockingly.
“We are all talking so much,” she said, “that we shall get nowhere to-night unless we tie up our tongues. You, lording, can find us a couple of mules or asses.”
Marpasse’s sarcasm sank into sand, for Denise turned and walked back towards the rest of the women who were making a meal under the yew tree. Some of them were using their needles, and sewing the white crosses on to the surcoats of the men.
“I will say good-bye to them.”
Perhaps there was a set purpose in this act of hers, for Denise would have Aymery see the comrades with whom she had travelled.