“My darling, are you dreadfully tired?”
“No—I feel quite revived this morning,” and she lifted her long white throat for him to kiss.
“Have you had your breakfast?”
“All I want. I’m not much of a breakfast eater, that’s one reason why I prefer having it up here.”
“But—but aren’t you ever coming down?”
“Poor boy—do you feel lonely without me?”
“Yes, damnably,” said Peter.
“But, my dear, I’d be poor company for you at this hour. I’m much better upstairs till ten or eleven—besides it makes the day so long if one’s down for breakfast.”
Peter looked at her silently—her argument dispirited him: “the day so long.”... For him the day was never long enough. He suddenly saw her as infinitely older and tireder than himself.
“Run down and have yours, now,” she said to him, “and then you can come up and sit with me for a bit before I dress.”