Noon
'T was easier said than done . I had strayed out of the friendly Rue St. Denis into a network of dark and narrow ways that might have been laid out by a wily old stag with the dogs hot on him , so did they twist and turn and double on themselves . I could make my way only at a snail 's pace , asking new guidance at every corner . Noon was long past when at length I came on laggard feet around the corner by the Amour de Dieu . Yet was it not fatigue that weighted my feet , but pride . Though I had resolved to seek out Maître Jacques , still 't was a hateful thing to enter as suppliant where I had been the patron . I had paid for my breakfast like a lord , but I should have to beg for my dinner .