Myra looked up eagerly.
"What about Peter?" she asked; but she didn't ask it very firmly.
"We promised Dahlia to take him in directly he cried," I said. "She'd be very upset if she thought she couldn't trust us. And we've got to go in for our clubs, anyway," I added.
Peter was sleeping peacefully again, but a promise is a promise. After all, we had done a good deal for his education that morning. We had shown him human nature at work, and the position of golf in the universe.
"We'll meet you on the first tee," said Myra to Thomas.
VI.—HE SLEEPS
"It's sad to think that to-morrow we shall be in London," said Simpson, with a sigh.
"Rotten," agreed Thomas, and took another peach.
There was a moment's silence.