'At home now. In June, thou didst....'
She said urgently: 'Be still. Wouldst thou woo me again to the
grunting of hogs?'
'Aye, would I,' he answered. 'Thou didst....'
She moved convulsively in her chair. He grasped her more tightly.
'Thou yieldest, I know thee!' he cried triumphantly. He staggered to
his feet, still holding her hand.
'Thou shalt come to Paris. Sha't be lodged like a Princess. Sha't see
great sights.'
She sprang up, tearing herself from him.
'Get thee gone from here,' she shivered. 'I am done with starving with
thee. I know thy apple orchard wooings. Get thee gone from here. It is
late. I shall be shamed if a man be seen to leave my room so late.'
'Why, I would not have thee shamed, Kat,' he muttered, her strenuous
tone making him docile as a child.
'Get thee gone,' she answered, panting. 'I will not starve.'
'Wilt not come with me?' he asked ruefully. 'Thou didst yield in my
arms.'
'I do bid thee begone,' she answered imperiously. 'Get thee gold if
thou would'st have me. I have starved too much with thee.'
'Why, I will go,' he muttered. 'Buss me. For I depart towards Dover
to-night, else this springald cardinal will be gone from Paris ere I
come.'