She wanted to catch him up and snub him each
time, but she was losing her courage. She knew that she was walking on a
mine, and could not tell what chance word or deed of hers would bring an
explosion. "And then what can I say to him?" she asked.
What she said was this:
Peter came downstairs the third evening of his stay "armed and equipped
as the law directs" for a cotillion. In the large hallway, he found
Leonore, likewise in gala dress, resting her hand on the tall mantel of
the hall, and looking down at the fire. Peter stopped on the landing to
enjoy that pose. He went over every detail with deliberation. But girl,
gown, and things in general, were much too tempting to make this distant
glimpse over lengthy. So he descended to get a closer view. The pose
said nothing, and Peter strolled to the fire, and did likewise. But if
he did not speak he more than made up for his silence with his eyes.
Finally the pose said, "I suppose it's time we started?"
"Some one's got to speak," the pose had decided.
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