“I have come to make peace.”
“Your lordship’s magnanimity is phenomenal.”
“Was I over hasty, goldsmith?”
“A young man’s way, my lord; no fault at all. Many’s the time I had my face smacked as a youngster, and was none the worse in favour. Take no serious view, sir, but press her the harder. She’ll give in—my faith, yes, being young and full of bone. You are troubled, my lord, with too much conscience.”
“Have you seen the woman since?”
Radamanth raised his eyebrows and shrugged.
“Well, no,” he said. “I am afraid my niece has rather a hot spirit—breeding, my lord—proud blood in her.”
“I know that part of her nobleness well enough.”
Radamanth refrained a moment from a sense of discretion.
“My lord would see her?”