It is longer than any he had written me heretofore, and I will here write it fair, for indeed I could not, an I would, copy the writing, so wild and reckless as it is.
"All must be at an end, Margery, betwixt Ann and me"-- and those first words stung me like a whip-lash.

"There.

'Tis written, and now you know it.

I was never worthy of her, for I have sold my heart's love for money, as Judas sold the Lord.
"Not that my love or longing are dead.

Even while I write I feel dragged to her; a thousand voices cry to me that there is but one Ann, and when a few weeks ago the young Sieur de Blonay made so bold as to vaunt of his lady and her rose-red as above all other ladies and colors, my sword compelled him to yield the place of honor to blue--for whose sake you know well.
"And nevertheless I must give her up.