"Dost
think by beef one may attain to paradise?"
HE: Peradventure.
SHE: Then no beef, for I would not live a saint yet awhile.
HE: Nathless, take thou these monies and go buy what thou wilt.
So saying, Sir Pertinax set the coins beside her shapely foot and took up
his neglected rod.
SHE: And is this gold truly mine?
HE: Verily.
SHE: Then I pray thee keep it for me lest I lose it by the way and so--let
us begone.
Here Sir Pertinax started.
"Begone?" quoth he. "Begone--in truth? Thou and I in faith? Go whither?"
SHE: Any whither.
HE: Alone? Thou and I?
"Nay, not alone," she sighed; "let us go together."
Sir Pertinax dropped his fishing-rod and watched it idly float away down
the stream:
"Together, maiden?" said he at last.
"Truly!" she sighed. "For thou art lonely even as I am lonely, and thou
art, methinks, one a lonely maid may trust."
"Ha--trust!" quoth he. "And wherefore would'st trust me, maiden?"
SHE: For two reasons--thou art of age mature and something ill-favoured.
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