Gwenhwyfar remembered this conversation, months after, on the morning of her dream. How long would it be before the wrenching sickness of the drug would seize on her? The room was close and seemed to smell Morgaine felt her throat close with something like agony. Sometime that year she indeed announced she was pregnant, but nothing came of it, and I think, indeed, it was only her desire for a child, and her fancy.
And no doubt they ask one another with every day, Where is Lancelet? Why are you here, and not there? I said, my mind plays me tricks-I hardly knew I came hither, Lancelet said. Mordred, she said, as she worked. She bent over Priscilla and said gently, I think I can promise you no more pain, my dear, if that is how you wish it to end. And she wondered a little at herself.
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