It does not matter to him either way. He wasn't quite hard enough to win worldly success; that was his fault. He might go on as the devoted lover until he tired. ‘And take you this sword. Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. She came quickly into the little parlour, which now seemed inordinately crowded, and coming up to Melusine, seized her hands in a warm clasp. But, after all, what does that matter? He is very much taken with me.
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