"
"So that he hears something more, what shall it signify?" quoth
my lord, and laughed.
They paced the length of the gallery in silence, past the yeoman
of the guard, who kept his watch, and into the first antechamber.
Perhaps it was that meeting with de Quadra and my lord's answer
to her comment that prompted what now she asked: "What is it ails
her, Robin?"
"A wasting sickness," he answered, never doubting to whom the
question alluded.
"You said, I think, that . . . that the end is very near."
He caught her meaning instantly. "Indeed, if she is not dead
already, she is very nearly so."
He lied, for never had Amy Dudley been in better health. And yet
he spoke the truth, for in so much as her life depended upon his
will, it was as good as spent. This was, he knew, a decisive
moment of his career. The hour was big with fate. If now he were
weak or hesitant, the chance might slip away and be for ever lost
to him. Elizabeth's moods were as uncertain as were certain the
hostile activities of my lord's enemies. He must strike quickly
whilst she was in her present frame of mind, and bring her to
wedlock, be it in public or in private. But first he must shake
off the paralysing encumbrance of that house-wife down at Cumnor.
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