Hushed with his own enthusiasm, he dropped his hand over one of Sue's; took hers up in both of his and moved her slender fingers about as he might have played absently with a handkerchief or a curtain string.
Hy, across the table, took this in; and noted too the swift, hot expression that flitted across Peter's face and the sudden set to his mouth.
Sue, alter a moment, quietly withdrew her hand. But she did not flush, as Betty had flushed in somewhat similar circumstances a few hours earlier.
Peter laid his hands on the table; pushed back his chair; and, lips compressed, got up.
“Oh,” cried Zanin—“not going?”
“I must,” Peter replied, slowly, coldly. “I have work to do. It has been very pleasant. Good night.”
And out he went.
Hy, after some hesitation, followed.
Peter did not speak until they were nearly across the Square. Then he remembered—
“The Walrus asked you where she was, did he?”