‘You believe!’ In the face of her professed astonishment he saw the dimples flicker, and felt safe.
‘I am coming up,’ he said. ‘Prithee make room for me, Joan.’
She opened her eyes.
‘No room for insolence’—she shifted ever so little—‘and when I cannot retort upon it.’
‘You do not know my name? It is Brion. Will you speak it, that I may learn to love its sound?’ He sat by her side, leaning upon his hand.
‘I have not your effrontery. Brion—there!’
‘Joan, I am your true knight for evermore. Shall we be sweet friends?’
‘I trow you have enough without me.’
‘Nay, I am a lonely boy, and not very happy.’
She glanced quickly at him, and down. A flush had come to her cheek.