If
she had not traded away, at the first two stalls, every ornament in her
possession, she would have investigated each booth in the square. She came out
in bubbling spirits to the waiting horses and the half-frozen guards.
"This Cheapside is a very fairy garden," she prattled, lingering with her foot
in the hand of the kneeling groom. "Everything in beds and rows as they were
herbs,--milk down this lane, soap down that, jewels, fabrics--" She turned
with a sudden inspiration. "Maidens, would not this be a merry thought? To
find out where the fabrics are kept and try some cloth of gold against these
pearls?"
As the servile murmur answered, Randalin's brow darkened. Cloth of gold and
pearls,--when a wolf was tearing at her heart! She spoke desperately, "I wish
that the way to the fabrics might lie past the King's House, lady."
The King's wife sent her a glance, half resentful, half questioning. "Why do
you say that?"
"Because if Canute could see you as you look now, with your cheeks a-flower
and that ermine, like snow, upon your hair, there is nothing in the world he
could refuse you."
Elfgiva's mouth curved bewitchingly. "You speak as though you had jewels to
sell. What fine manners they have, these London merchants! Tell me, Candida,
Leonorine, does she speak the truth? On your crosses, has not the cold
reddened my nose? Or pinched the bloom off my lips?"
If the murmur that answered lacked any heartiness, their mistress did not
perceive it, for every man within earshot swelled it with reassurance,--
thinking perhaps of the hot spiced wine in the King's cups.
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