Yves went out in a daze, the soft, feline voice pursuing himuntil he had closed the door between. And there, standing patientlya few yards away, waiting with folded hands to be summoned back toher mistress, the elder lady turned her thin oval face and dark,incurious eyes upon him, asking nothing, confiding nothing. Nodoubt she had seen many young men emerge from that imperialpresence, in many states of mortification, elation, devotion anddespair, and refrained, as she did now, from making them aware howwell she could read the signs. He drew his disrupted wits together,and made the best he could of his withdrawal, passing by her with asomewhat stiff reverence. Not until he was out in the darkenedcourt, with the chill of the November twilight about him, did hepause to draw breath, and recall, with frightening clarity, everyword that had been said in that brief encounter.

Had the empress’s gentlewoman overheard the valedictorywords? Could she have heard them, or any part of them, as the dooropened to let him out? And would she, even for an instant, haveinterpreted them as he had? No, surely impossible! He rememberednow who she was, closer than any other to her liege lady: the widowof a knight in the earl of Surrey’s following, and herselfborn a de Redvers, from a minor branch of the family of Baldwin deRedvers, the empress’s earl of Devon. Impeccably noble, fitto serve an empress. And old enough and wise enough to be a saferepository for an empress’s secrets. Perhaps too wise to heareven what she heard! But if she had caught the last words, how didshe read them?

He crossed the court slowly, hearing again the soft, insistentvoice. No, it was he who was mangling the sense of her words.Surely she had been doing no more than giving bitter expression toa perfectly natural hatred of a man who had betrayed her. What elsecould be expected of her? No, she had not been even suggesting acourse of action, much less ordering. We say these things inpassion, into empty air, not with intent.