She began to trace an intricate pattern on the floor with the point of
her shoe.

"I can't imagine why you are fond of me!" she said. "I've been very
horrid to you."

"Nonsense. You've been all that's sweet and womanly."

"And I want to tell you why," she went on. "Your--your sister----"

"Ah, I thought as much!"

"She--she saw that you seemed to be getting fond of me, and she----"

"She would!"

"Said some rather horrid things that--hurt," said Eve, in a low voice.

Peter crossed over to where she sat and took her hand.

"Don't you worry about her," he said. "She's not a bad sort really, but
about once every six months she needs a brotherly talking-to, or she
gets above herself. One is about due during the next few days."

He stroke her hand.

"Fasting," he said, thoughtfully, "clears and stimulates the brain. I
fancy I shall be able to think out some rather special things to say to
her this time."