Here are some new sentences from The Lady and the Minstrel.
Monday: Robert knew
he should not cling to the surname, not with Kit Beckford in Gunthar’s camp,
but if he was going to fight and possibly die for the king, he would do it as
his father’s son, not some nameless minstrel.
Tuesday: Sometimes
when Robert wrapped himself in his cloak, he fancied he could still smell Beck
Manor in the threadbare cloth, though rationally he knew the scent had faded
years ago.
Wednesday: “Mint
plays havoc with one’s temper, and I am already cross enough.”
Thursday: He felt
his blood churn up in anger, even as he wondered who Sir Warin was.
Friday: Robert
noticed he did not mention villeins. That would be like acknowledging the
milkmaid’s cow.
Saturday: He had been
hungry to hear of her, but such slurs as this?
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