"
"It would be none too much for his deserts," I replied, falling in
with her humor.
"We will so arrange it then," went on Mary, banteringly; "Captain
Brandon no longer, but Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. How sounds
it, Master Caskoden?"
"Sweet in my ears," I replied.
"I really believe you would have the king's crown for him, you absurd
man, if you could get it. We must have so interesting a person at
court; I shall at least see that he is presented to the queen at once.
I wonder if he dances; I suppose not. He has probably been too busy
cutting and thrusting." And she laughed again at her own pleasantry.
When the mirth began to gather in her face and the dimples came
responsive to her smiles; when she threw back her perfectly poised
head, stretching her soft, white throat, so full and round and
beautiful, half closing her big brown eyes till they shone again from
beneath the shade of those long, black sweeping lashes; when her red
lips parted, showing her teeth of pearl, and she gave the little clap
of her hands--a sort of climax to the soft, low, rippling laugh--she
made a picture of such exquisite loveliness that it is no wonder men
were fools about her, and caught love as one catches a contagion.
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