"Will you promise to mail it?"
"Oh, I'll mail it all right," he said; "but I give you until six o'clock this evening to think it over. I'm not going to the station until then."
"To think over what?" I asked, my eyes opened innocently wide. But he flung away in a fury.
It was rather fun that afternoon. If my party had been dreary on Sunday it was nothing to Carrie's. They'd clearly all agreed to stay round and keep Roger and me apart. Everybody sulked, and the men got the Sunday newspapers and buried themselves in them. Once I caught Roger dropping into a doze. He had refused the paper and had been playing up well, sitting back in his chair with his cap over his eyes and gazing at me until everybody wiggled.
"Roger," I called, when I saw his eyes closing, "are you game for a long walk?"
Roger tried to look eager.
"Sure," he said.
"Haven't you a particle of humanity?" Carrie demanded. She knew some of them would have to go along, and nobody wanted to walk. It was boiling. "He has been up since dawn and he's walked miles."
Roger ignored her.
"To the ends of the world—with you, Clara," he said, and got up.