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“The fairest of all creatures did she seem; So fresh and delicate you well might deem That scarce for eighteen summers had she blessed The happy, longing earth; yet, for the rest Within her glorious eyes such wisdom dwelt A child before her had the wise man felt.” |
“Is that it?” he murmured to himself. To his surprise, for he had not thought that she spoke English, she answered him.
“It is not. It is my eyes; yes, but they are not to be described so flatteringly.” Yet she was smiling and the blush had spread again to cheeks and chin, flushing them delightfully. “It is a superstition of these ignorant poilus. And of others, also. In fact, there are some who are afraid.”
“Well,” said De Launay, “I have never had the reputation of being either ignorant or afraid. Also—there is Ogier?”
“What?”
“Who plays the rôle of the Danish Paladin?”
Mademoiselle blushed again. “He is not in the story this time,” she said. 64
“I hardly qualify, you would say. Perhaps not. But there is more. Where is Avalon and what other names have you? You remember
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“Know thou, that thou art come to Avalon, That is both thine and mine; and as for me, Morgan le Fay men call me commonly Within the world, but fairer names than this I have—— |
“What are they?”