“Well then, Miles, had you not better tell me what it is that troubles you?” she coaxed, laying a persuasive hand on his shoulder.

He smiled up at her.

“ ’Tis just an inquisitive puss you are!”

Again the pout.

“And ye should not pout your pretty lips at me if ye are not wanting me to kiss them!” he added, suiting the action to the word.

“But of course I do!” cried my lady, returning the kiss with fervour. “Nay, Miles, tell me.”

“I see ye mean to have the whole tale out of me, so⁠—”

“To be sure I do!” she nodded.

He laid a warning finger on her lips and summoned up a mighty frown.