“Shhh. She had seen her really only at teas, with the Stanley strain in her uppermost. Reverse psychology or something, it’s like she was trying to draw him nearer by pushing him away. Either we go forth together, or they shall bury me. ‘Madwoman,’ he screamed back, as he climbed over the next pew, eyes darting down briefly to check for his sword. Talk to her of the new story; divert her; for this day her heart has been twisted sorely. It was a precious thing, a beautiful cabochon—do you know what that is?” “What’s a cabochon?” “It’s a precious jewel that doesn’t have facets yet. "I likes to hear vot you says.
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