

“Largess, largess!”  The cry fell upon an unheeding ear.

“Long live Edward of England!”  It seemed as if the earth shook with the
explosion; but there was no response from the King.  He heard it only as
one hears the thunder of the surf when it is blown to the ear out of a
great distance, for it was smothered under another sound which was still
nearer, in his own breast, in his accusing conscience--a voice which
kept repeating those shameful words, “I do not know you, woman!”

The words smote upon the King’s soul as the strokes of a funeral bell
smite upon the soul of a surviving friend when they remind him of secret
treacheries suffered at his hands by him that is gone.