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Page 76
His feet were bare; his robe was decent but by no means of fine cloth. Simon was a trifle taken aback. He had experience of many rich and corrupt priests, but this did not look like one of that kind. The old eyes met his questioningly but not fearfully.
"Is it you who writes Lady Alinor's books?" Simon asked quietly, reserving judgment.
"Yes," the old man agreed. "It is a great pleasure to serve a lady who"
"It is a great profit too," Simon interrupted sharply.
"Sometimes, but, alas, I fear"
"Sometimes!" Simon exclaimed. "You do well to fear," he added fiercely. Was the man so sure of his place he was ready to admit his corruption?
The old man bowed his head. "Perhaps it is right I be corrected, but I have told my abbot, more than once, and he says Lady Alinor is so young"
"Your abbot! Your abbot also profits from this?"
"My abbot is a holy man," the friar said reprovingly. "He could not profit from my simple work."
"Well, I am glad to hear that, although I suspect it is not true, and, I must say, your work is not so simple."
The gross sarcasm in Simon's voice had no effect on the friar who looked up again with a pleased smile. "It is very kind of you to say so. Indeed, I have spent long hours over it, and it is a pleasure to share"
"Share!" Simon roared, appalled at the sly insolence that was so certain it could buy his silence.
The old man started and stepped back. "It is not hurtful, my lord," he quavered. "I have written no work of illicit lust, only fair tales of brave knights"
"You mean you write romances for Lady Alinor?" Simon choked.
As there were priests and brothers who were too much interested in the things of this world, so there were others too little interested. From the beginning

 
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