"I have some sad memories of the land.

Can you recall that which befell us at Libourne ?" "Nay, I cannot call to mind that we ever so much as drew sword at the place." "Man, man," cried Sir Oliver, "your mind still runs on nought but blades and bassinets.

Hast no space in thy frame for the softer joys.

Ah, even now I can scarce speak of it unmoved.

So noble a pie, such tender pigeons, and sugar in the gravy instead of salt! You were by my side that day, as were Sir Claude Latour and the Lord of Pommers." "I remember it," said Sir Nigel, laughing, "and how you harried the cook down the street, and spoke of setting fire to the inn.