The roof of it was shaded by a tree planted for that purpose, and not many feet from its end wall the cool blue river ran. A queen could not have had a sweeter place for an audience chamber, albeit there was need of paint and repairs, and the wooden doorstep was almost worn away. Sophia, churn-handle in hand, greeted her visitor without apology.
'I wish I could! sighed the young man. Rosamund tied her apron on again, and laid hold of the churn-handle. 'What do you call great? she asked, beginning to work it up and down. The young man took his gold coin meditatively between his thumb and forefinger and twisted it on its silken string. 'Greatness is everything that I have not, and want to have, he said. 'Such as what?
She had expected that this churn-handle, the evidence of work to be done, would act as a check upon feeling, but she saw with little more than a glance that such check was superfluous; there was no sign of intoxication from the wine of graciousness which she had held to his lips when last she saw him. As he talked to her he stood on the short white clover outside the door's decaying lintel.