Claire sat on the cloaks for some minutes, in silence.
"I have been thinking, Monsieur Philip," she said at last, "and it seems to me that it would not be right for me to go with you.

I am the promised wife of the Sieur de Pascal, and that promise is all the more sacred, since he to whom I gave it,"-- and she paused--"is gone.

It would not be right for me to go with you.

You shall take me to the Louvre, where I will crave the protection of the King and Queen of Navarre.
"Do not think me ungrateful for what you have done for me.

Twice now you have saved my life, and, and--you understand me, Philip ?" "I do," he said, "and honour your scruples.