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Updated: June 23, 2025
Vincent, the young page, brought food and wine to the threshold; Maulfry came out and took them in. But there she was perfectly safe. Isoult could never be jealous of Prosper; she would despair, but would resent nothing he might do. Jealousy requires two things exorbitantly self-love and a sensitive surface.
Part of her journey for the half of one day she actually had Maulfry in full view; saw her riding easily on her great white Fleming, saw the glint of the golden armour, and Vincent ambling behind her on his cob, catching at the leaves as he went, for lack of something better.
"Salomon?" said Galors all in a whisper. "Never Salomon? Do you not remember?" Maulfry laughed. "I should remember, I think. But there is no monopoly. What we choose others can choose. The name is free to the world, and a great name." Galors, visibly uneasy; thought hard about it. Then he swore. "And I go for great deeds, by Heaven! Give it me, Dame. I will have it. Entra per me!
It sufficed them to see a tall beribboned shape, a thing of brown skin and loose black hair a tall woman standing at a distance. Side by side Isoult and Vincent went down towards her. Half-way Isoult suddenly stopped and beckoned Maulfry forward with her hand. The fact was that she had seen how near the woman stood to the guard-room door; she wished to do her business undisturbed.
"What may your Highness need of Saint Lucy's poor bedesman?" said the hermit, rubbing his hands together. "My Highness needs the whereabouts of a flitted lady," said the knight in a high clear voice. Isoult, whom the clatter had awakened, lay like a hare in her form. At this time she feared Maulfry more than Galors. "Great sir, we have no flitted ladies here. We are very plain folk."
Galors, strapped and bandaged till he looked like a mewed owl in a bush, turned his chalk face to her with inquiry shooting out of his eyes. He had grown a spiky black beard, from which he plucked hairs all day, thinking and scheming. "Well," was all he said. Maulfry nodded. "The story is true. She has the feet and hands. She is a little beauty. You have only to shut the hole in your neck."
Maulfry's eyes shifted like lightning from one to the other. She felt her rage rising, but swallowed it down. "You little fool," she said, "you little fool, his life is in danger." "I have warned him, Maulfry. It was in danger." "Warned him! I can do better than that. Why, your own is as shaky as his. You have brought it about by your own folly, and now you are like to let him be killed.
And so it was, and so remained, while High March held the pair of them. By which it will appear that the evil spirit was disposed in pious uses. Maulfry did not appear at High March either the next day, or the next. In fact, a week passed without any sign from her, which sufficed Isoult to avoid the tedious attentions of the maids, and to attract those of the Countess of Hauterive.
"The marriage-bed," he said waggishly, and blew out the light. Isoult lay down on the bed; Prosper took off his body-armour and lay beside her, and his naked sword lay between them. Dom Galors knew a woman in East Morgraunt whose name was Maulfry. She lived in Tortsentier, a lonely tower hidden deep in the woods, and had an unwholesome reputation. She was held to be a courtesan.
It was to Tortsentier and to Maulfry that Dom Galors rode through the rain when he had finished biting his nails in the quarry. Very late that night he knocked at her door. Maulfry, who slept by day, opened at once, and when she saw who it was made him very welcome.
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