“You don’t mean it?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you were over thirty.”
“Most people do.”
Miss De Voe said to herself, “I don’t know as much about him as I thought I did. He may be very frank, but he doesn’t tell all one thinks. Now I know where he gets his nice manner. I ought to have recognized the Harvard finish.”
“When did you last hear from the D’Allois?” asked Miss Leroy.
“Not since they sailed,” said Peter, wincing internally.
“Not really?” said the bridesmaid. “Surely you’ve heard of the baby?”
“No.” Lines were coming into Peter’s face which Miss De Voe had never before seen.
“How strange. The letters must have gone astray. But you have written him?”