“The wound?”
“Yes.”
There was silence between them for a while. Then Von Tressen said abruptly: “Philippa, I hate mysteries. Will you not clear up the one which stands between us?”
“There is none,” she protested.
“There is,” he returned.
“None that need trouble you.”
“But it does,” he insisted. “Will you let our betrothal be known?”
“Not yet, Osbert.”
“At least let Count Zarka know it.”
She laughed. “Who else is there here? Count Zarka is all the world.”