silent, Sylvie gradually was reassured. Near the end of the meal she
put out her hand toward Pete.

"Please don't be so cross with me, Pete! Give me a shake for
forgiveness."

He touched her hand, his eyes lowered, and drew his fingers away.
She laughed.

"How shy you are--a wild, forest thing! I'll have to civilize you."

"Leave him alone," admonished Hugh softly, "leave him alone."

As he said this, he did not look at Sylvie, but gazed somberly at
Pete. It was a strange look, at once appealing and threatening,
pitiful and dangerous. Pete fingered his fork nervously. Finally Bella
stood up and began to clear the table with an unaccustomed clatter
of noisy energy.

"How long are you going to keep it up, Pete?" she asked him afterward.
He was helping her wash the dishes, drying them deftly with a piece
of flour-sacking.

"Since we've let it begin, we'll have to go on with it to a finish,"
he answered coldly. "After all"--he paused, polished a platter and
turned away to put it on its shelf--"he's not doing anything so
dreadful--just twisting the facts a little. I _am_ an ignorant lout.
I might as well be fourteen, for all I know."

"And I _am_ a mummy of a woman?"