“I think,” said Peter, “we’ll have to turn Pell down. A Congressman who laughs at one of my friends won’t do.”
“I really wish you would. That would teach him,” said Leonore, vindictively. “A man who laughs at women can’t be a good Congressman.”
“I tell you what we’ll do,” said Peter. “I don’t want to retire him, because—because I like his mother. But I will tell you something for you to tell him, that will astonish him very much, and make him want to know who told you, and so you can tease him endlessly.”
“Oh, Peter!” said Leonore. “You are the nicest man.”
“What’s that?” asked Watts.
“It’s a great secret,” said Peter. “I shall only tell it to Miss D’Alloi, so that if it leaks beyond Pell, I shall know whom to blame for it.”
“Goody!” cried Leonore, giving a little bounce for joy.
“Is it about that famous dinner?” inquired Watts.
“No.”
“Peter, I’m so curious about that. Will you tell me what you did?”