She seemed to change as if with a change of the wind,
And growing serious sighed, ``Now look,'' she said,
``You think me a mad woman and unkind,
But that is nonsense. I am sound of head
And not unsound of heart, ah, no, not there!
But you turn my head with your John the Baptist's face.
I will not be made jealous, so beware.''
She looked entreatingly as if for grace,
And held me by the arm. ``We are strangers both
Among these heavy Lyonnese. By right
We so should hold together. Tell me truth.
You never saw me, did you, till to--night?''
I said, ``I came here not twelve hours ago!
Why should you think it?'' ``No,'' she broke in, ``no.
Wilfrid Scawen Blunt