Then for a change I paused by the window.
I had stood a good while thus moodily looking out at the casement, when I became aware of two that walked slowly up the street and halted together before the great iron-studded door which led to the Red Tower.
By the thirty thousand virgins--Helene and Michael Texel! And then, indeed, what a coil was I in; how blackly deceitful I called her! How keenly I watched for any token of understanding and kindness more than ordinary that might chance to pass between them.

But I could see none, for though the great soft lout of a ruddy beer-vat tried often to look under the brim of her hat, yet she kept her eyes down--only once, that I could observe, raising them, and that was more towards the Red Tower than in the direction of Michael Texel.
I think she wished to see whether I was watching.

And when she had noted me it I wot well that she became much more animated, and laughed and spoke quickly, with color in her cheeks and a flash of defiance on her countenance, which were manifestly wasted on such a boastful, callow blubber-tun as Michael Texel.
Then it was: "Adieu to you, Master Texel!" "Farewell to you, fair maid!" And Helene dipped a courtesy to him, dainty and sweet enough to conquer an angel, while the great jelly-bag shook himself almost to pieces in his eagerness to achieve a masterly bow.

All this made me angry, not that I cared though Helene had coquetted with a dozen lads, an it had liked her.

It was only the poverty of taste shown in being seen in the open High Street of Thorn along with such an oaf as Michael Texel.