My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. “I’ve been thinking of you all night,” she answered. For all her begging she had been given the choice to go into the nunnery and “learn how to read scrolls with the rest of God’s Spinsters” by her father, but had quickly lost interest when presented with the idea of bearing babies. “Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. “You doubted me?” She joked. They put her down, and she leaped at them; she smote a helmet to the ground.
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