"I will swear it upon the cross!" "His name, then?" demanded the knight. “Is your husband here to-night?” he asked. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. My poor brain is so mixed, dear, I hardly know what I am saying. Lassitude?” “I suppose so. He did not explain what had happened to her. . The metrical irregularity is intentional, because I want, as it were, to put you apart: to change the lilt and the mood altogether when I speak of you.
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