Under the linden-tree, an attractive pair were conversing. The chipmunks watched idly. Valartine had been slightly delayed by the attentions of Éowénie.
"Pardon my delay, belovedeth!" she said.
"I had not known you so closely tied to Mlle. Sacqueville-Danglars," said Meurtrier. "From the manner in which you spoke, in which you gave one another the arm, in which Éowénie kissed you, one would have said that two roommates were exchanging confidences."
"Indeed we were exchanging confidences," said Valartine. "For she avowed her repugnance for the marriage with the Viscount de Pérégrin, and I-eth my fear and loathing and trembling unto death for the doom of wedding M. d'Imrahil."
"I loveth thou!" quoth Meurtrier. "But regarding d'Imrahil, I hear a news from his friend de Pérégrin that maketh me to quayle: he returns!"
"Alack!" quoth Valartine. "I fear our loveth is doomed, as was that of Turin, who fell upon his épée, and the maiden leapt to her death from the Tour-Eithil!"
"Nay! Run thou away with me!"
