r friend in this pious robbery of
herself: Richard, who stood so deep engaged in honour to God Almighty,
could get no money.

Busy as he was with one shift after another to redeem his credit, busy
also pushing on his coronation, he yet continued to see his mistress
most days, either walking with her in the garden of the nuns' house
where she lodged, or sitting by her within doors. At these snatched
moments there was a beautiful equality between them; the girl no longer
subject to the man, the man more master of himself for being less master
of her. As often as not he sat on the floor at her feet while she worked
at those age-long tapestries which her generation loved; leaning his
head back to her knee, he would so lie and search her face, and wonder
to himself what the world to come could have more fair to show than this
calm treasurer of lovely flesh. This was, at the time, her chief glory,
that with all her riches--fragrant allure, soft warmth, the delicacy,
nice luxury of her every part, the glow, the tincture, the throbbing
fire--she could keep a strong hand upon herself; sway herself modestly;
have so much and give so little; be so apt for a bridal, and yet without
a sigh play the nun! 'If she, being devirginate through me, can cry
herself virgin again--then cannot I, by the King of Heaven?' This was
Richard's day-thought, a very mannish thought; for women do not consider
their own beauties so closely, see no divinity in themselves, and find a
man to be a glorious fool to think one of them more desirable than
another. He never spoke this thought, but worshipped her silently for
the most part; and she, reading the homage of his upturned face, steeled
herself against the sweet flattery, held her peace, and in her fierce
proud mind made endless plots against his.

In silence their souls conversed upon a theme never mentioned between
them. His restless quest of her face taught him much, disposed him; she,
with all the good guile of women to her hand, waited, judging the time.
Then one day as they sat together in a window she suddenly slipped away
from his hand, dropped to her knees, and began to pray.

For a while he let her alone, finding the act as lovely as she. But
presently he stooped his face till it almost touched her cheek, and
'Tell me thy prayer, dear heart! Let me pray also!' he whispered.

'I pray for my lord the King,' she said. 'Let me pray.' But as he
insisted, urging, leaning to her, she drew her hea