There was a cringing tone about the old sinner that made Igraine thoroughly despise him. He seemed to combine elderly bravado with smooth servility, qualities peculiarly obnoxious to the girl’s spirit. She had never liked or trusted Eudol overmuch in the past, but she was at pains to be civil to him now, seeing that he might serve her in sundry ways. She took his speeches with outward graciousness, and laughed at him hugely in her heart.
He began to lecture her in rather egotistical fashion.
“You must remember, my dear,” he said, "that I am a man of the world, and one whose experience may be relied upon. I may tell you that my judgment is much valued by your good uncle Radamanth, a man of much sagacity, but yet one who lacks just that subtle insight into events that I may say has always been my special characteristic. I am so experienced that I may deserve the infinite honour of advising you if you care to tell me where you are going. I have had so much to do with the world, that I can tell you the best tavern in any town this side of the Thames where clean and honest lodging may be had. I can inform you as to tolls, prices, customs, bye-laws. Are you soon returning to Winchester?"
Igraine shook her head at him.
“Who have you been quarrelling with, my dear?”
“Myself most.”
“To think of it, syrup quarrelling with honey! What will your Lord Gorlois do?”
Igraine stifled the question on the instant.
“Master Eudol, leave that name alone if you want more of my company.”
“Pardon, my dear, pardon. I did not know it was so unpleasant a topic.”