So that is the reason why he cleaves to me." "An excellent reason, my lady," said I, "for any to cleave to you." "Ah," she said, wistfully, "only fools think of Ysolinde in the city of Thorn.

Some are afraid and pass by, and the rest are as the dogs that lick the garbage in the streets.

Here I have no friends, save my father only, and here or elsewhere I have never had any that truly loved me." "But you are young--you are fair," I answered.

"Many must come seeking your favor." Thus did I begin lumpishly enough to comfort her.

But at my first words she snatched her fingers away angrily, and then in a moment relented.
"You mean well," she said, giving her hand back to me again, "but it is not pity Ysolinde needs nor yet desires.