"You could afford it, Walter, couldn't you, now?"
"Of course I can afford it."
He thought how easily it could be done, if he gave up his yacht and the farm. His business was doing better every year. But the double household was a drain on his fresh resources. He could not very well afford to take another house, and keep the farm too. He had thought of that before. He had been thinking of it last night when he spoke to Maggie about giving him up. Poor Maggie! Well, he would have to manage somehow. If the worst came to the worst they could sell the house in Prior Street. And he would sell the yacht.
"I think I shall sell the yacht," he said.
"Oh no, you mustn't do that. You've been so well since you've had it."
"No, it isn't necessary. I shall be better if I take more exercise."
Peggy came back and the subject dropped.
Peggy was very unhappy before the picnic ended. She was tired, so tired that she cried piteously, and Majendie had to take her up in his arms and carry her all the way to the station. Anne carried the doll.
In the train Peggy fell asleep in her father's arms. She slept with her face pressed close against him, and one hand clinging to his breast. Her head rested on his arm, and her hair curled over his rough coat-sleeve.
"Look—" he whispered.