"Not on your life!" said Peter.
I quoted a bit I happened to remember.
"'Nothing is wiser than the modern woman's desire to see life with her own eyes, not only with those of a husband.'" I sighed.
"If I were Bill," said Peter, "I'd burn that book."
"'Nothing,'" I continued, "'is more true than that souls which are parted by a lack of perfect frankness never belonged to one another.'"
"Look here," said Peter, and got up; "I think you've lost your mind, Clara—you and Roger Waite both. Look at him mooning over there. I'd like to turn the garden hose on him."
I looked at Roger—a long gaze that made Peter writhe.
"'Love's double heartbeat'——" I began. But Peter stalked away, muttering.
Carrie had left Roger, so I put down my cup and followed him to the parapet of the terrace.
"Darling!" he said. And then, finding Peter was not with me: "How's it going?"