"Stay! I have a thousand things to say to you."
The girl smiled denial.
"I have but one," she said, "and I have said it long since. Farewell."
Villon made a dash for audacity.
"I will follow you," he said, and he moved to do so, but the girl's lifted finger stayed him.
"You may not," she said peremptorily. "I go to the queen." And so with a swift salutation, gracious as the dip of a dancing wave, she entered the palace and left him standing there, dazed and ardent, as a man might be who had just been vouchsafed the vision of an angel. He murmured to himself her words as he slowly descended the steps to the ground,
"Oh, that a man would come to court," and on that text he wove the hopeful commentary of his thoughts.
"Why should I not deserve her? Last night I was only a poor devil with a rusty sword and a single suit. To-day all's different. I am the king's friend, it would seem, a court potentate, a man of mark. What may I not accomplish? This finery smiles like sunlight and the world will warm its hands at me."
He was exquisitely pleased with himself, exquisitely pleased with the world that held him and
