eBooks Base 2000

The face on the pillows was hard to discern in the gloom, but when Anton
laid the table for the Cluniac's meal and set a lamp on it, he lit up the
cavernous interior of the bed, so that it became the main thing in the
chamber. It was the face of a woman who still retained the lines and the
colouring of youth. The voice had harshened with age, and the hair was
white as wool, but the cheeks were still rosy and the grey eyes still had
fire. Notable beauty had once been there. The finely arched brows, the oval
of the face which the years had scarcely sharpened, the proud, delicate
nose, all spoke of it. It was as if their possessor recognised those things
and would not part with them, for her attire had none of the dishevelment
of a sickroom. Her coif of fine silk was neatly adjusted, and the great
robe of marten's fur which cloaked her shoulders was fastened with a jewel
of rubies which glowed in the lamplight like a star.
Something chattered beside her. It was a little brown monkey which had made
a nest in the warm bedclothes.


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