neither Peter nor Cherry could find a logical argument with which
to combat Alix's protests against any change.

The next time that Cherry went into town, Alix did not go, and
Peter, sitting on the deck of the early boat with her, asked her
again to have luncheon with him. Immediately a cloud fell on her
face, and he saw her breast rise quickly.

"Peter," she asked him, childishly, looking straight into his
eyes, "why didn't we tell Alix about that?"

Peter tried to laugh and felt himself begin to tremble again.

"About what?" he stammered.

"About our having been three hours at lunch last week?"

"Why--I don't know!" Peter said, smiling nervously.

She was silent, and they parted without any further reference to
meeting for lunch. But every time he was summoned to the telephone
Peter felt a thrill of expectation, and at noon his office swam
suddenly before his eyes when the lovely voice was really
addressing him. She was at the ferry, Cherry said; she had
finished shopping, and was going home.

"That's fine!" Peter said, quite as he would have said it a month
ago. But he was shaking as he went back to his work.

That night, when Alix had gone to bed, he entered the sitting room