"No, you are not a brute," she said; "you are just a child. However, since you are an invalid, I forgive you. But you must not be sulky when people take trouble on your behalf. You are getting a big boy now, you know! Say 'thank you,' nicely!"
"Thank you," said Philip obediently.
"That is much better," remarked Peggy approvingly. "But tell me, why don't you want to settle down in nice comfy rooms with Tim?"
Philip hesitated, and his throat went dry. Was this his opening—at last?
"I don't want to settle down—in that way," he said hoarsely. "Peggy, I—"
"Shall I tell you why?" interposed Peggy. "Because you are far too much wrapped up in your work. You work too hard. You think of nothing but Oxford Street and—and carburettors, and things. I want you—I mean, you ought to go about more, and see people, and enjoy yourself, and have a lot of friends."
"I don't want—" declared Philip rebelliously.
"Think how interesting and amusing you could be, if you went about and met more people," continued Peggy.
She got home that time. Philip winced.
"I'm a dull dog, I know," he said.