See paragraph 1. Her dainty shoes were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt. Her heart in her mouth, hoping against hope, Melusine made her way back to where she had left the boy. “What did it matter?” she cried. Having only seen him in the gloom of a dungeon, and loaded with fetters, Kneebone had not noticed this alteration: but he was now greatly struck by it. “Afterwards,” she said, “I should be perfectly content to have everything done for me. We've ridden post all the way, and I'm horribly tired, or you wouldn't have mastered me so easily.
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