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Page 364
Eventually Siward came to join him and tell him that the loot they had taken was well on its way to Clifford. Since there still was no sign of any threat, they rode back to the smoldering ruins of Almondbury and, after a puzzled conference about the abortive attack, which none of them could fathom, made their way quietly to Clifford.
Walter dined with his friends and enjoyed the meal, his appetite having been honed by his morning's exercise. Although the conversation centered on the final event, no one discovered any explanation of what had happened. Nor, after they talked it over, did it seem very important. Walter collected his share of the portable loot, arranged to have the cattle and sheep owing to him driven over to Clyro when convenient, and took his leave.
He was in high good humor as he rode the few miles to his wife's keep, and when he heard that Sybelle was already there he dismissed the servant who wished to announce him and rushed up to the hall glowing with pleasure. No small impediment arose to annoy him. Sybelle was sitting by the fire embroidering, and he strode across, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her soundly before everyone there.
''I have missed you," he said, kissing her again, "but to speak the truth, I am glad I did not know you had come so soon. I have been out with Bassett and Siward. How did you get here so fast? Did you fly?"
"I wish we had," Sir John's wife replied comically. "If we had, I would not need to be sitting on extra cushions."
Sybelle could not help smiling at that, and she said collectedly, "You said as soon as possible, my lord, so I kept the pace hot."
But she was cold inside again. Walter had never greeted her in such a way before. To her, the public warmth of his embrace seemed false, as if he were overdoing a show of love to hide something else. All she could think of was Marie's letter, yet she could not bring herself to give it to him here, where everyone could see her face and his. Her mind seemed numb, and she could not think of any way to suggest that they should go apartat least, any way that would not give rise to jests, which, at this moment, she could not bear.
Walter had no time to notice that there was something wrong with Sybelle. Although he did realize that she had not really responded to his kisses, he put that down to surprise

 
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