That was a conundrum, indeed. If it had been a knotty law point, Peter
would have been less nonplussed by it.
Leonore felt her advantage, and used it shamefully. She knew that Peter
was helpless, and she said, "How?" again, laughing at him.
Peter groped blindly. "I shall make you," he said again, for lack of
anything better.
"Perhaps," said Leonore, helping him out, though with a most insulting
laugh in her voice and face, "you will get a string and lead me?"
Peter looked the picture of helplessness.
"Or you might run over to the Goelets', and borrow their baby's
perambulator," continued that segment of the Spanish Inquisition. If
ever an irritating, aggravating, crazing, exasperating, provoking
fretting enraging, "I dare you," was uttered, it was in Leonore's manner
as she said this.
Peter looked about hopelessly.
"Please hurry up and say how," Leonore continued, "for I want to get
down to the cliff walk. It's very wet here on the grass. Perhaps you
will carry me back? You evidently think me a baby in arms.
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