“Then suppose you tell me yours?”
“Why?”
Peter could not think of a reason why. Deeply as he was supposed to understand women, here was a new variety. She was inclined neither to flirt nor to run away.
“How is it that you know who I am?” he asked, sparring for time..
She gave a careless shrug. “Oh, most every one is known, here in the Village.”
Peter was always at his best when recognized as the Eric Mann. His spirits rose a bit.
“Might I suggest that we have a cup of tea somewhere?”
She knit her brows. “Yes,” she replied slowly, even doubtfully, “you might.”
“Of course, if you—”
“Jim's isn't far. Let's go there.”