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 than transgress their faith and law. But one day as these two sweethearts were busily engaged in their favourite occupations; that is to say the business and quidditative investigation of searching for the soul of a kiss; pursuing that queer, subtle, and undoubtedly delicious entity through all its transformations; a sudden thought came into Bertha's depositary of notions, and this thought made her knit her brows. "Do you think my Father would like to see us thus?" asked she, stroking Sir Symon's curly hair in a meditative kind of way. "Hardly I suppose," answered the knight, "seeing that I am an exiled man, living only from his board: but it isn't of much consequence, is it?" "Only that my Father is Ivo Fitz-Baderon, Lord of Estrighoil, and master here of all men's lives and liberties." "Well he could only hang me." "I don't think I should altogether like to see you hanged; besides if that happened you would not be able to marry me, and you would like me to be your wife, wouldn't you?" "Yes, I should certainly like to marry you now you remind me, and as you say, the ecclesiastical law forbids wedlock with ghostly men. But do you think my Lord suspects anything?" "He never suspects, but he sometimes hangs when he thinks he is in danger of being suspicious, for he says this is a very sinful state of mind." "Then shall we ride away together?" "To whitherward?" "Why I don't know exactly, but I suppose there are lords on the Marches, who would willingly buy the sword of a gallant gentleman and shelter him against his enemies." "Ay, there is my lord