Chapter 13
"I think," said the Flame Lady, "that whoever lost that woman
had no reason to be sad."
Mongan took her chin in his hand and kissed her lips.
"All that you say is lovely, for you are lovely," said he, "and
you are my delight and the joy of the world."
Then the attendants brought him wine, and he drank so joyously
of that and so deeply, that those who observed him thought he would
surely burst and drown them. But he laughed loudly and with
enormous delight, until the vessels of gold and silver and bronze
chimed mellowly to his peal and the rafters of the house went
creaking.
Said he:
Mongan loved Duv Laca of the White Hand better than he loved his
life, better than he loved his honour. The kingdoms of the world
did not weigh with him beside the string of her shoe.
