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Page 145
face and making her eyes look like molten gold. Her color was still high with cold and excitement, her lips very red, and, adorably, the tip of her pretty nose was as pink as her cheeks.
"Missing the hunt is the least of my regrets," he replied, forgetting all about how annoyed he had been.
Sybelle batted her eyes at him exaggeratedly and tittered. "Oh, how you flatter me, my lord."
Walter stared at her in surprise, barely touched by guilt. Her manner was a caricature of Marie's. Could she know? he wondered. Uttering a theatrical groan, Waiter shook his head. "Worse and worse!" he exclaimed. "How can I court you when your response to a compliment is so unnatural?"
Sybelle burst out laughing. "The polite thing to say," she choked, "is exceptional. How do you expect to win me if you insult me by calling me unnatural?"
"I will now call you unreasonable also," Walter retorted. "Did you not just by your manner chide me for desiring to flatter you? Then when I speak unpolished truth you object to that. Which do you desire?"
Sybelle's eyes glinted, and Walter waited eagerly for the clever rejoinder, but it was never made, for Joanna arrived to sweep away her daughter with exclamations of disgust at her condition and a sharp reminder that the servants were already preparing the hall for the serving of dinner.

Neither Walter nor Sybelle found anything of interest in the meal or the entertainment, since they were not seated together. Partners of both found them somewhat absent of mind, although Walter came off better in this respect than Sybelle. Most of the conversation addressed to him concerned the battle at Monmouth, and he was able to answer nearly all of the questions by rote, having answered similar questions several times already. Sybelle was unusually quiet, and her eyes had a disconcerting way of wandering off to where Walter was sitting. When their glances met, both lost track of what they or their dinner partners were saying.
As soon as the tables were cleared, they gravitated together as if some irresistible force drew them. Joanna sighed as she saw them again in the sheltered corner by the hearth. Sybelle loved to dance, yet she did not seem to have heard the musicians. She had simply shaken her head at several young

 
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