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An expression of blank amazement on the Queen's face gave way to something much colder. "Do you think I called you here to answer questions I could have asked in a letter?" she asked. "What else would I summon you for but to serve as the leader of my escort as was your duty in times past? Have you grown so lofty in your new eminence as sheriff that you will not deign to" |
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She cut off her diatribe midsentence since obviously it was not necessary nor doing any good. Simon could not have heard a word she said. An idiotic expression of sheer delight had spread over his features, and he stared off past her with the eyes of a man who sees the open gateway into Heaven. A qualm of real unease passed through the Queen. Could his mind be disordered? She dismissed the notion. If it was, it had no effect on the performance of any normal duty. The Welsh expedition was no product of a disordered mind, nor was the smooth-running administration of the shire of Sussex. |
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At last Simon brought his eyes back to her face. "Forgive me," he said. "I have been feeling these two months past like an old stallion, too beloved to kill but no longer worthy of his work. Alinor wrote me how kind you were in helping obtain Sussex for me by interceding with the Kingand I thought you were setting me out to pasture. I thought perhaps I was grown too old" |
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The Queen's laugh, still beautiful in spite of her age, belled out. "Oh, Simon. How can I think of you as old? In my mind you are still a boy." Then she sobered. "But you are not. In truth, Simon, are you content to make this journey?" |
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"Content? Yes!" He stood up. "But, Madam, you could have given me a little more warning. I must go, if you will give me leave, and make such preparations as I can in this short time." |
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In the anteroom Alinor still sat by the fire, although she was no longer waiting. Her despair did not show |
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