He stopped abruptly at the threshold.
“ The time for thinking is past,” he said. “It is decision I came for.”
“ I will think the matter over,” I repeated, then added, as afterthought: “If the lady’s plans do not accord with mine, then mayhap the plans of your master may fruit as he desires. For remember, priest, he is no master of mine.”
“ You do not know my master,” he said solemnly.
“ Nor do I wish to know him,” I retorted.
And I listened to the lithe, light step of the little intriguing priest go down the creaking stairs.
Did I go into the minutiæ of detail of all that I saw this half a day and half a night that I was Count Guillaume de Sainte-Maure, not ten books the size of this I am writing could contain the totality of the matter. Much I shall skip; in fact, I shall ski
