His by all heaven she was.

When Gurdun squared himself and puffed his cheeks, and stood up; when Jehane, touched by Saint-Pol on the shoulder, shivered and left staring, and stood up in turn, swaying a little, and held out her thin hand; when the priest had the ring on his book, and the two hands, the red and the white, trembled to the touch--Richard rose from his knee and stole forward with his long, soft, crouching stride.
So softly he trod that the priest, old and blear-eyed as he was, saw him first: the others had heard nothing.

With Jehane's hand in his own, the priest stopped and blinked.

Who was this prowler, afoot when all else were on their knees?
His jaw dropped; you saw that he was toothless.
Inarticulate sounds, crackling and dry, came from his throat.

Richard had stopped too, tense, quivering for a spring.