It angers me, my
lord, to think that one who should, in this, be on my side, taketh part
against me."
"'Is not easily provoked,'" quoted the Bishop.
"In fact I am tempted, my lord," said the Prioress, rising to her feet,
tall and indignant, "I am almost tempted, my Lord Bishop, to forget the
reverence which I owe to your high office----"
"'Doth not behave itself unseemly,'" murmured Symon of Worcester,
putting on his biretta.
The Prioress turned her back upon the Bishop, and walked over to the
window. She was so angry that she felt the tears stinging beneath her
eyelids; yet at the same time she experienced a most incongruous desire
to kneel down beside that beautiful and dignified figure, rest her head
against the Bishop's knees, and pour out the cruel tale of conflicts,
uncertainties and strivings, temptations and hard-won victories, which,
had lately made up the sum of her nights and days. He had been her
trusted friend and counsellor during all these years. Yet now she knew
him arrayed against her, and she feared him more than she feared Hugh.
Hugh wrestled with her feelings; and, on the plane of the senses, she
knew her will would triumph. But the Bishop wrestled with her
mentality; and behind his calm gentleness was a strength of intellect
which, if she yielded at all, would seize and hold her, as steel
fingers in a velvet glove.
She returned to her seat, composed but determined.
"Reverend Father," she said, "I pray you to pardon my too swift
indignation.
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