unhappy if he thought Elspeth was too overcome by grief to wave to him.  Her arms rocked passionately; no, no, she would not lift them to wave to him, he could be as unhappy as he chose.  Then in a spirit of self-abnegation that surely raised her high among the daughters of men, though she was but a painted lady’s child, she waved to him to save him pain, and he, still erect in the cart, waved back until nothing could be seen by either of them save wood and fields and a long, deserted road.