'See you,' he said. 'This world goes very wearily with me. I am upon a
make of husbandry that bringeth little joy. I have no rest, no music,
no corner to hide in save in thy converse and the regard of thy
countenance.'
He paused to search her face with his narrow eyes.
'God knows that the Queen there is is no wife of mine,' he said
slowly. 'If thou wilt wait till the accomplished time....'
She said:
'No, no!' and her voice had an urgent sharpness.
She stretched out both her hands, being still upon her knees. Her fair
face worked convulsively, her lips moved, and her hood, falling away
from her brows, showed her hair that had golden glints.
'For pity let me go,' she moaned. 'For pity.'
He answered:
'When I renounce my kingdom and my life!'
From opposite ends of the gallery Winchester and Cromwell watched them
with intent and winking eyes.
'Let us go pray,' the King said. 'For now I am in the mood.'
She got upon her legs wearily, and, for a moment, took his hand to
steady herself.
* * * * *