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‘Overbold,’ said Hugh. ‘Hearken here,’

and he read: ‘Upon the Feast of St Agatha,

our Lord of Pevensey, lying in his upper chamber,

being clothed in his second fur gown reversed with rabbit—’

‘Pest on him! He is not my tire-woman!’ said De Aquila,

and Hugh and I laughed.

‘Reversed with rabbit, seeing a fog over the marshes,

did wake Sir Richard Dalyngridge, his drunken cup-mate’

(here they laughed at me)

‘and said, ‘Peer out, old fox, for God is on the Duke of Normandy’s side.’

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