'No means,' she said, drawing in her breath, 'no means, Madame.

I have his life to think of.' Here, pitying herself, she turned away her face.

The Queen-Mother came suddenly and kissed her.
They cried together, Jehane and the flinty old shrew of Aquitaine.
A pact was made, and sealed with kisses, between these two women who loved King Richard, that Jehane should do her best to further the Navarrese match.

Circumstance was her friend in this pious robbery of herself: Richard, who stood so deep engaged in honour to God Almighty, could get no money.
Busy as he was with one shift after another to redeem his credit, busy also pushing on his coronation, he yet continued to see his mistress most days, either walking with her in the garden of the nuns' house where she lodged, or sitting by her within doors.

At these snatched moments there was a beautiful equality between them; the girl no longer subject to the man, the man more master of himself for being less master of her.