He was gripped again, shaken a little. "No, don't leave me. Wait.
It won't be long. She will go away with me soon, as soon as she gets
over a girl's timidity. Pete, she does love me. She does. Don't stand
dumb; tell me that she does."

"She does," Pete repeated tonelessly.

"I'm sorry I struck you. I have a devil's temper. And I think of you
as still a boy. I wanted to beat you. A few years ago I would have
beaten you." He put this forward as though it were a reasonable
excuse.

"Yes." Pete smiled grimly. "I can remember your beatings." He drew
himself away. "Shall we go back?"

Hugh still held him, though at arm's length. "First I must have a
promise from you." He spoke sternly.

"What do you want?"

"I want your promise to keep hands off, to hold your tongue to the
end."

"You won't trust me, then?"

"Not since I watched you moving toward her, not since I felt your
arm."

Pete was silent. He studied the ground. There was a sullen look on
his face, and his tightened mouth deepened the odd, incongruous