The man and the woman were left alone in the rose garden. Villon
felt a sudden strange sensation at his heart, exquisite pain and
exquisite pleasure, and he clasped his hands together.
"I am awake," he assured himself; "no dream could be as fair as
she."
Even at the thought, Katherine flung herself swiftly at his feet,
divinely gracious in her surrender of dignity as she kneeled to him
with uplifted imploring hands and eyes.
"My lord," she cried, "will you listen to a distressed lady?"
Villon stooped and caught her white fingers and drew her to her
feet.
"Not while the lady kneels," he said gently, and he looked with a
strange apprehension into the frank, bright eyes of Katherine. Would
she know him for what he was, he wondered. He read no recognition in
her sweet eyes. Katherine returned his gaze, unflinchingly regarding
him as a great lady might regard some stranger her equal of whom she
could ask a favour.
"She does not know me," Villon's delight cried in his heart, and at
the thought his spirit fluttered with fierce exaltation. The Lord of
Moncorbier, who was Grand Constable of France, might say many things
that were denied to the lips of Fran?ois Villon.
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