Robert and Marguerite have finally been reunited in England! But as you can see from Friday's entry, trouble is about to break over their heads. Here are a few new lines I typed this week from The Lady and the Minstrel.
Monday: “As well ask a fish to walk on dry land as expect a man of Marcel’s birth to comprehend such ideals as integrity and love.”
Tuesday: How could she refuse to bestir herself, merely because it was easier to wallow in her own self-pity?
Wednesday: She raised her hands to Robert’s waist, intending to push him away, but her ear had somehow found the rhythm of his heart and refused to part from its strong, reassuring cadence.
Thursday: She swiveled an impatient toe into the dirt. Why was he speaking such nonsense?
Friday: But it was too late now, for the Earl of Strode had already recognized them and was parting a path through the masses, shoving anyone out of his way who hesitated too long to move himself or tried to protest Strode’s rudeness.