How Leonore could have got from her room into the garden without Peter's
seeing her was a question which puzzled him not a little, when, by a
chance glance out of a window, he saw that personage clipping roses off
the bushes. He did not have time to spare, however, to reason out an
explanation. He merely stopped roaming, and went out to--to the roses.
"Good-morning," said Leonore pleasantly, though not looking at Peter, as
she continued her clipping.
Peter did not say anything for a moment. Then he asked, "Is that all?"
"I don't know what you mean," said Leonore, innocently. "Besides,
someone might be looking out of a window."
Peter calmly took hold of the basket to help Leonore sustain its
enormous weight. "Let me help you carry it," he said.
"Very well," said Leonore. "But there's no occasion to carry my hand
too. I'm not decrepit."
"I hoped I was helping you," said Peter.
"You are not. But you may carry the basket, since you want to hold
something."
"Very well," said Peter meekly.
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