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Javan went out again to the main hall, his towels in hand. He resented those words of Eodwine’s, for no boy could bear such a jibing remark, however well deserved.
He came to the wet section of floor and dropped down to the ground to begin sopping up the water. He herded it gently all into one, round pool, and then made a valiant effort to get all of it dried up with his two towels. Much of the water from the bucket had been absorbed by Rowenna’s skirt and he finally managed to get it nearly all dried up. The towels were soaked through and dripped as he lifted them, wadded up in his two hands. The ground was streaked with droplets of water, but Javan could do nothing about that - his supply of dry cloth was out. Rowenna could easily get the rest.
He carried the dripping towels to the outer door and outside he wrung them until no more water would drip out.
As he returned inside, he saw Léof coming from the kitchen. “I’m about to take these back to the kitchen, Léof,” Javan said, hurrying forward. “Then are we going out to the stables?”
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