With a bursting heart—
“You’ll—you’ll leave me on the platform, won’t you? I mean . . .” The girl was panting. “Not that I don’t care, dear, but I wouldn’t like . . .”
“I—I swear,” said the man uncertainly.
Joan’s brain staggered.
“We must—must play the game,” she faltered, half to herself. Suddenly she caught at his arm. “Oh, Perry, you will be there? You won’t let me down? If I came out of my sleeper, and you weren’t there . . .”
“I will be there.”
Joan gave a little sob.
Then she looked up.
“I’m an awful funk,” she quavered.
Peregrine rose and put her hand to his lips. He was quite calm now.