"I see."
"Of course, I 've had to do more or less hedging on account—of Madame Covington."
"I'm sorry, Monte."
"You need n't be, because it was she who introduced me to him. And, I tell you, he's fine and big and worth while all through. But you know that."
"Yes."
"That's why I 'm going to feel quite safe about leaving you with him."
She started. That word "safe" was like a stab with a penknife. She would have rather had him strike her a full blow in the face than use it. Yet, in its miserable fashion, it expressed all that he had sought through her—all that she had allowed him to seek. From the first they had each sought safety, because they did not dare face the big things.
Now, at the moment she was ready, the same weakness that she had encouraged in him was helping take him away from her. And the pitiful tragedy of it was that Peter was helping too, and then challenging her to accept still graver dangers through him. It was a pitiful tangle, and yet one that she must allow to continue.
"You mean he'll help you not to worry about me?"
"That's it," he nodded. "Because I've seen the man side of him, and it's even finer than the side you see."