Her lips came together.
"There's no reason why you should feel responsibility for me even without Peter," she protested.
She was seated in one of the wicker chairs, chin in hand. He stepped toward her.
"You don't think I'd be cad enough to desert my wife actually?" he demanded.
He seemed so much in earnest that for a second the color flushed the chalk-white portions of her cheeks.
"Sit down, Monte," she pleaded. "I—I did n't expect you to take it like that. I 'm afraid Peter is making you too serious. After all, you know, I 'm of age. I 'm not a child."
He sat down, bending toward her.
"We've both acted more or less like children," he said gently. "Now I guess the time has come for us to grow up. Peter will help you do that."
"And you?"
"He has helped me already. And when he gets his eyes back—"