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Page 93
stood quite well, and the look on Walter's face was such that she backed away a step. The movement recalled him to reality, and he dropped his eyes. He was appalled at what he had done. It was not honorable to court a grill before receiving her father's permission to do so. Hardly realizing what he was doing, Walter stood up and turned toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Sybelle cried.
"I must speak to your father," Walter said. "I"
"Not soaking wet and dressed in an arming tunic," Sybelle protested, restraining laughter. Her embarrassment had dissipated, and she was amused by Walter's confusion. "You may not have noticed," she added dryly, ''but the hall is full of guests. Come and sit down again. When I have looked to your hurts and you are warm and dressed, you will find Papa easily enough. They will be talking politics for hours."
Walter looked down at himself, stood irresolutely for another moment, and then reseated himself on the stool. Sybelle knelt down beside him and began to cut, then tear out, the stitches of the seam of his tunic. For a while Walter stared straight ahead, then cautiously shifted his eyes to look down at Sybelle. When it was clear that she was attending only to what she was doing, he allowed himself to gaze at her.
Surely, he thought, she must be aware that he intended to ask for her in marriage and surely she must be willing. If she had not been willing, she would have told him not to speak to her father or discouraged him by saying her father was too busy to talk to him. But she had not said that. She had said Lord Geoffrey would be easy to find. Did that mean she knew her father would accept his offer? The strong hope generated by that idea made Walter's muscles twitch as an impulse to go out and make his proposal at once swept over him.
"Did I prick you?" Sybelle asked, pulling the knife away and looking up.
"No," Walter replied shortly.
He shifted his eyes from her, then felt foolish because she must already know he had been staring at her and looked at her again. She was back at work, but her complexion was somewhat rosier than it had been. Walter smiled. He was behaving like an idiot, but plainly that was doing him no harm with Sybelle. It never did harm for a woman to think she had bemused a man. Then the smile turned a little wry as Walter considered the fact that in this case it was perfectly

 
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