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Barclay, Florence L. (Florence Louisa), 1862-1921

"The White Ladies of Worcester A Romance of the Twelfth Century"

"
The Knight stood during this recital, his eyes fixed in searching
question upon the Bishop's face.
Then: "My lord," he said, "such kindness on your part, passes all
understanding. That you should have borne with me while I told my
tale, was much. That you should tacitly have allowed me the chance to
have speech with my betrothed, was more. But that, all this time,
while I was giving you half-confidence, and she no confidence at all,
you should have been working, spending, planning for us, risking much
if the Holy Father had taken your largeness of heart and breadth of
mind amiss! All this, you did, for Mora and for me! That you were, as
you tell me, a frequent guest in my childhood's home, holding my
parents in warm esteem, might account for the exceeding kindness of the
welcome you did give me. But this generosity--this wondrous
goodness--I stand amazed, confounded! That you should do so great a
thing to make it possible that I should wed the Prioress-- It passes
understanding!"
When Hugh d'Argent ceased speaking, Symon of Worcester did not
immediately make reply. He sat looking into the fire, fingering, with
his left hand, the gold cross at his breast, and drumming, with the
fingers of his right, upon the carved lion's head which formed the arm
of his chair.
It seemed as if the Bishop had, of a sudden, grown restive under the
Knight's gratitude; or as if some train of thought had awakened within
him, to which he did not choose to give expression, and which must be
beaten back before he allowed himself to speak.


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