He pulled at the hand, and slowly Piers yielded.

The water dripped from his shoulders.

They gleamed in the strong light like a piece of faultless statuary, godlike, superbly strong.

But it was upon no splendour of form that Sir Beverley's attention was focussed.
He spoke after a moment, an odd note of contrition in his voice.

"I didn't mean to mark you like that, boy.