and ill-articulated as if blown aside by some spectral wind.

"Yes, I have," answered the other, in like but rougher tone. "You would
do nothing to help me, and this cursed knee is out!"

"I did my best, my lord."

"No doubt, my lady, for it was bad! I thought I should never find my
feet again!--But, bless my soul, madam! are you out in your bones?"

She cast a look at herself.

"I have nothing else to be out in," she returned; "--and YOU at least
cannot complain! But what on earth does it mean? Am I dreaming?"

"YOU may be dreaming, madam--I cannot tell; but this knee of mine
forbids me the grateful illusion.--Ha! I too, I perceive, have nothing
to walk in but bones!--Not so unbecoming to a man, however! I trust to
goodness they are not MY bones! every one aches worse than another, and
this loose knee worst of all! The bed must have been damp--and I too
drunk to know it!"

"Probably, my lord of Cokayne!"

"What! what!--You make me think I too am dreaming--aches and all! How
do YOU know the title my roistering bullies give me? I don't remember
you!--Anyhow, you have no right to take liberties! My name is--I am
lord----tut, tut! What do you call me when I'm--I mean when you are
sober? I cannot--at the moment,--Why, what IS my name?--I must have been
VERY drunk when I went to bed! I often am!"

"You come so seldom to mine, that I do not know, my lord; but I may take
your word for THAT!"

"I hope so!"

"--if for nothing else!" "Hoity toity! I never told you a lie in my
life!"

"You never told me anything but lies."

"Upon my honour!--Why, I never saw the woman before!"

"You knew me well enough to lie to, my lord!"

"I do seem to begin to dream I have met you before, but, upon my oath,
there is nothing to know you by! Out of your clothes, who is to tell
who you may not be?--One thing I MAY swear--that I never saw you so much
undressed before!--By heaven, I have no recollection of you!"

"I am glad to hear it: my recollections of you are the less
distasteful!--Good morning, my lord!"

She turned away, hobbled, clacking, a few paces, and stood again.

"You are just as heartless as--as--any other woman, madam!--Where in
this hell of a place shall I find my valet?--What was the cursed name I
used to call the fool?"

He turned his bare noddle this way and that on its creaking pivot, still
holding his knee with both hands.

"I will be your valet for once, my lord," said the lady, turning once
more to h