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around any man for their upkeep. There's a couvertine for that. I
have one there now; the diaconal who fathered him on me had his miniature
painted and I'll show it to you. Hurry with your dress and we'll go down
together. Old quince-face doesn't like anybody to be late."
She took Lalette's arm and guided her along a hall already powder-grey with
dusk, to the stairwell, where the racking note of a violin floated in a funnel
of light. Below, it was all so different that Lalette had seen it in the
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morning, or even at noon, when she had eaten a rather gloomy meal of pulse and
one apple, while the others around her chattered in a subdued manner under the
eye of Dame Quasso. The whole place was now gay with lamps and someone had
hung spring branches among them, under which girls were gathered in excited
little groups, some of them talking to young men, the ruffles of their dresses
vibrating, as though they too had caught the mood of animation. Among the
moving heads Lalette could see how the double doors of the eating-hall were
flung wide; at its entry the mattern stood, talking with a white-headed man
dressed in grey, whose expression never changed. Dame Quasso beckoned; as
Lalette worked her way in that direction, a voice floated past, ". . . I told
her he already said he would choose me, and I don't care if I do lose my
place, I'm going to ask for an Initiate's trial. . . ."
The eyes looked down into hers from a height. "This is our newest member,
called Lalette," said the mattern. "She is from Dossola, where she
was accused of witchery, and she is somewhat troubled in mind."
A long gaze. The grey man said; "It is because she feels compelled and has
not learned the wonderful freedom of the service of the God of love. My
child, witches find it harder than anyone else to forget the material self,
but once they do so, attain the most surely to perfection."
(Perfection? Lalette wanted to cry that it was no desire of hers.) She said;
"The material self? I don't really care what I eat  or where I sleep."
The grey man said; "Do not think in mere terms of nourishment, which is a
means of maintaining the material body we despise. In love, we serve the
soul."
(Lalette felt her inner gorge rising toward forbidden anger.) "I am not sure
I understand."
"Do not be troubled. Many fail to understand in the beginning and to many,
perfection comes after a long struggle in self-denial."
The rebecks and flutes broke out, all in tune. Dame Quasso offered her arm to
the grey man and Lalette looked around to see other pairings, two and two,
moving into the eating-hall. She herself was suddenly left unattended, to go
in with the blonde Nanhilde. The taller girl leaned close and said;
"Nobody."
"What do you mean?" said Lalette.
"Nobody. Not an obula tonight," replied Nanhilde.
II
"Listen," said Leece. "Oh, hear. I am not ignorant. If you really desire
that I should come no more, I will not. I am not one to intrude."
"Lovely Leece," he said, "it is for you, not I," (yet knowing it was for
himself) and drew her hand to his lips, folding her fingers round the kiss he
placed in the palm.
She looked at him intently. "There is a cold breeze," she said, and stepping
to the door, closed it before she ran across the room with little quick steps
to throw back the covers and slip in beside him. The black brows brushed his
cheek.
"If you hated me and really wanted to get rid of me, let me ask you, what
would you do? How different would you behave toward me than you are now
doing? You tell me that talking with you here in the morning gives you
pleasure and is a help to you. Why do you wish to stop it then, if I am
willing to come? And if you are thinking of any damage to me, why surely that
is my concern."
As her arm came around his neck and their lips met in the long deep kiss, he
closed his eyes, not daring to look into hers, for this was no Damaris the
maid (and it was not that he dared not, but that he would not). They came
shuddering from the contact. "Ah, no," he cried and drew her close again and
for a third time. But then she said suddenly; "Three is enough," and without
another word slipped from beside him and was gone.
All nights were now turned into a prelude to the mornings, and all days to a
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prelude for the evenings, when one of the other sisters would talk with them
and gently jest at them for a pair of lovers, until Rodvard and Leece went out
for a stroll under avenues of plane-trees, where lights flickered through the
leaves in the warm summer air. The elder Vyana or the younger
Madaille often accompanied them on these journeys, laughing a great deal as
they conversed on matters of no importance, for it was as though he and Leece
had signed a treaty never to show anyone outside how deeply they were
concerned with each other. In the mornings, when the subject turned to
themselves, there were checks and uncertainties in their words; yet it was a
topic they could not avoid. Rodvard would often leave his breakfast uneaten,
the better to lie beside her, kissing and kissing, with now and then some
little thing said.
"You must not love me," she whispered one morning, turning her burning face
from his; "not in the human way."
"Why not, Leece? I love  this," and kissed her again.
"Ah, so do I. But to love, to love  it would be falling into the hands of
the Evil god for me to love you or you to love me, before you had been to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]