"You're a hard lady to please," he said. "But I'll see what I can do. Go back in the summer-house and wait for me. If anybody bothers you, jump at them and do some kind of an incantation. They'll leave you alone, fast enough."
"Where are you going now?" she demanded.
"Well, having stolen a classy outfit of society lingerie for you, I'm now going to see if I can steal you a limousine."
"Peter! Don't you leave me here. Come back! I——"
But he was gone.
[CHAPTER XX]
The High Cost of Jealousy
Bill Marshall, leaning on the after rail of his yacht and watching the churning, white wake of her twin screws, was not sure but the best way to mend things was to jump overboard and forget how to swim. Jealousy and rage were no longer his chief troubles. Remorse had perched itself on his already burdened shoulders. And then came shame, piling itself on top of remorse. And soon afterward fear, to sit on the shoulders of shame. Truly, his load was great.