“I do.”
“And I say I shan’t.”
Peter felt his helplessness. “Please come back.”
Leonore laughed internally. “I don’t choose to.”
“Then I shall have to make you.”
“How?” asked Leonore.
That was a conundrum, indeed. If it had been a knotty law point, Peter would have been less nonplussed by it.
Leonore felt her advantage, and used it shamefully. She knew that Peter was helpless, and she said, “How?” again, laughing at him.
Peter groped blindly. “I shall make you,” he said again, for lack of anything better.
“Perhaps,” said Leonore, helping him out, though with a most insulting laugh in her voice and face, “you will get a string and lead me?”