Once or twice the
little hand had hinted that it had been held long enough, but Peter did
not think so, and the hand had concluded that it was safest to let well
alone. If it was too cruel It might rouse the sleeping lion which the
owner of that hand knew to exist behind that firm, quiet face.
Presently Peter put his unoccupied hand in his breast-pocket, and
produced a small sachet. "I did something twice," he said, "that I have
felt very meanly about at times. Perhaps you'll forgive me now?" He took
from the sachet, a glove, and a small pocket-handkerchief, and without a
word showed them to Leonore.
Leonore looked at them. "That's the glove I lost at Mrs. Costell's,
isn't it?" she asked gravely.
Peter nodded his head.
"And is that the handkerchief which disappeared in your rooms, at your
second dinner?"
Peter nodded his head.
"And both times you helped me hunt for them?"
Peter nodded his head. He at last knew how prisoners felt when he was
cross-examining them.
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