It was nearly one o'clock in the morning when Peter limped into the rooms.
He found Hy pitting by the window in his pajamas, gazing rapturously at a lacy handerchief.
“Aha!” said Hy, “he comes! Never mind the hour, my boy! I take off my hat. You're better than I am—better than I! A soupçon of speed, ol' dear!”'
Peter dropped limply into the Morris chair. “What's the matter?” said Hy, observing him more closely. “You look done. Where's Sue?” Peter composed himself. “I left Sue a long while ago. Hours ago.”
“What on earth have you been doing?”
“Exactly what I promised you I'd do.”
This was a new, an impressive Peter.
“I don't get you—”
“You said Sue might not listen to my warning.”
“Oh—and she didn't?”