So it was with
Peter. He thought that he had but to speak, yet dared not do it. The
present was so certain, and the future might have such agonies. So for
two days he merely followed Leonore about, enjoying her pretty ways and
hardly heeding her snubs and petulance. He was very silent, and often
abstracted, but his silence and abstraction brought no relief to
Leonore, and only frightened her the more, for he hardly let her out of
his sight, and the silent devotion and tenderness were so obvious that
Leonore felt how absolutely absurd was her pretence of unconsciousness.
In his very "Miss D'Alloi" now, there was a tone in his voice and a look
in his face which really said the words: "My darling." Leonore thought
this was a mean trick, of apparently sustaining the conventions of
society, while in reality outraging them horribly, but she was helpless
to better his conduct. Twice unwittingly he even called her "Leonore"
(as he had to himself for two months), thereby terribly disconcerting
the owner of that name.
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