Read "Sir John Dering" by Jeffery Farnol online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Sir John rubbed the sleep from his eyes to behold his companion approaching, evidently fresh from her morning ablutions; moreover, her sprigged petticoat, if a little rumpled, looked surprisingly trim, her square-toed, flat-heeled shoes were innocent of dust and she had even contrived to comb and dress her hair-black, glossy hair, he noticed, that fell in wanton curls on either white temple. And, seeing her so neat and trig from top to toe, he immediately became supremely conscious of his own rumpled garments, his unshaven chin and the haystalks entwined in the tangled ringlets of his peruke. None the less, he rose and bowed with his usual grace, giving her a cheery "Good morning."
"S heart, child! " he exclaimed, "you walk proud as Dian's self or lady o' high degree, God save your ladyship! " And he bowed again with an exaggerated flourish, at which she frowned and answered sullenly: