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Updated: May 3, 2025
"You are a sorry fellow," said Jacqueline, giving the officer's shoulder a familiar slap. "We have earned a hundred gold crowns this morning." "I like harboring lords no better than harboring wizards. And I know not, of the two, which is the more like to bring us to the gallows," replied Tirechair, taking up his halbert.
Tirechair, as a man grown old in the tricks of his trade, affected to believe that the strange lady was in fact a work-girl; still, this assumed indifference could not altogether cloak the timidity of a courtier who respects a royal incognity.
He believes his pence will last for ever, and he has eaten them through twice over in the past six months." "Woman," said the sergeant, solemnly pointing to the Place de Greve, "do you remember seeing, even from this spot, the fire in which they burnt the Danish woman the other day?" "What then?" said Jacqueline, in a fright. "What then?" echoed Tirechair.
"I felt smothered! I never marked our two lodgers so carefully. 'Tis a bad thing for us women that the Devil can wear so fair a mien!" "Ay, cast some holy water on him," said Tirechair, "and you will see him turn into a toad. I am off to tell the office all about them."
On the first floor were two rooms, let to lodgers at a rent, one year with another, of forty sous Parisis each, an exorbitant sum, that was however justified by the luxury Tirechair had lavished on their adornment.
The noise of waters, the chanting of priests, or the piping of the wind, were the only sounds that disturbed this wilderness, where lovers would sometimes meet to discuss their secrets when the church-folds and clergy were safe in church at the services. One evening in April in the year 1308, Tirechair came home in a remarkably bad temper.
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