Daphne wasn't exactly sure what she expected to happen when she visited George. She figured at best, they'd have a civil conversation about her proposal and at worse, he'd slam the door in her face. What did happen wasn't even in the realm of her thinking (which really wasn't much at the moment). George had a small black towel loosely wrapped around his waist and was still wet, presumably from a shower. She felt her face get hot both from embarrassment and, perhaps, a little twinge of excitement.
From his friendly demeanor and the state of his dress, or rather undress, it almost seemed as if he were awaiting company of the amorous type. She open and closed her mouth several times all the while transfixed by a droplet of water making it's long journey down his stomach towards the towel.
She unconsciously worried her bottom lip between her teeth, "Uh......I'm terribly sorry. I should've given you some sort of warning I wanted to meet with you. I can come back at a more convienient time if you'd like. You must be waiting for guests."