"What is it?" asked Peter.
"Such a joke," gasped Dorothy, "but I can't tell you."
As for Leonore, her triumphant manner had fled, and her cheeks were very
red. And when some one spoke to Dorothy, and took her attention, Leonore
said to Peter very crossly:
"You are so clumsy! Of course I didn't mean that way."
Peter sighed internally. "I am stupid, I suppose," he said to himself.
"I tried to do just what she asked, but she's displeased, and I suppose
she won't be nice for the rest of the day. If it was only law or
politics! But women!"
But Leonore didn't abuse him. She was very kind to him, despite her
displeasure. "If Dorothy would only let me alone," thought Peter, "I
should have a glorious time. Why can't she let me stay with her when
she's in such a nice mood. And why does she insist on my being attentive
to her. I don't care for her. It seems as if she was determined to break
up my enjoyment, just as I get her to myself." Peter mixed his "hers"
and "shes" too thoroughly in this sentence to make its import clear.
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