“What evening are you to be at home?”
“To-morrow,” said Leonore, beginning to curl up the corners of her mouth.
“Well,” said Peter, “I wish you had said this evening, because that’s nearer, but to-morrow isn’t so far away.”
“That’s right. Now we’ll be friends again.”
“I hope so.”
“Are you willing to be good friends—not make believe, or half friends, but—real friends?”
“Absolutely.”
“Don’t you think friends should tell each other everything?”
“Yes.” Peter was quite willing, even anxious, that Leonore should tell him everything.
“You are quite sure?”