"Why aren't you coming with us to-day?" she demanded.
She stood on the opposite side of his writing table, looking at his tired face with a wonderful softening in her eyes.
She was dressed for the drive, and looked rather like a handsome bird of Paradise in her bright green veil and red motor coat.
She still wore the swinging gipsy earrings, but lately they had somehow ceased to annoy Forrester; or perhaps he was beginning to realize that, after all, trifles count very little in the sum total of things.
He looked up at her with a pucker between his eyes.
"I told you—I'm too busy to come," he answered.
"I know that's what you said, but it's only an excuse, isn't it?" she asked bluntly.
Forrester smiled. "I don't think it's worth arguing about, anyway," he said.
"Don't you? Well, I do," said Peg. She went back and shut the door, which was on the jar only, and came again to stand beside him.