"What is the matter?" he asked anxiously. "And why has Peter gone?"
Jan raised her head; pride and shame and self-consciousness were dead in her: "He's gone," she sobbed. "He won't come back, and I shall never be happy any more," and down went her head again on her locked arms.
Tony did not attempt to console her. He ran from the room, and Jan felt that this was only an added pang of abandonment.
Down the drive ran Tony, with William galumphing beside him. But William was not happy, and squealed softly from time to time. He felt it unkind to leave a poor lady crying like that, and yet was constrained to go with Tony because Meg had left him in William's charge.
Tony turned out of the gate and into the road.
Far away in the distance was a man's figure striding along with incredible swiftness. Tony started to run all he knew. Now, seldom as William barked, he barked when people ran, and William's bark was so deep and sonorous and dis
tinctive that it caused the swiftly striding man to turn his head. He turned his body, too, and came back to meet Tony and William.
Tony was puffed and almost breathless, but he managed to jerk out: "You must go back; she's ... crying dreadful. You must go back. Go quick; don't wait for us."
Peter went.