“All right,” said Watts, not looking up from his book.
That was enough. Peter sped back to the hall. It was empty. He put his head into the two rooms. Empty. He looked out of the front door. There in the distance, was that prettiest of figures, distinguishable even when buried in a mackintosh. Peter caught up a cap from the hall rack, and set out in pursuit. Leonore was walking rapidly, but it did not take Peter many seconds to come up with her.
“Your father says you are not to go out.”
“I can’t help it, since I am out,” said Leonore, sensibly.
“But you should come back at once.”
“I don’t care to,” said Leonore.
“Aren’t you going to obey him?”
“He never would have cared if you hadn’t interfered. It’s your orders, not his. So I intend to have my walk.”
“You are to come back,” said Peter.
Leonore stopped and faced him. “This is getting interesting,” she thought. “We’ll see who can be the most obstinate.” Aloud she said, “Who says so?”