Kate had not heard him. She was trying to remember all she knew of the courts of the island—where they were held, and on what days.
“Have you seen Philip lately?” she asked.
“Not since Monday,” said Pete. “He's in Douglas, working like mad to be here on Monday, God bless him!”
“What did he say when he heard we had changed the day?”
“Wanted to get out of it first. 'I'm sailing on Tuesday,' said he.”
“Did you tell him that I proposed it?”
“Trust me for not forgetting that at all. 'Aw, then,' says he, 'there's no choice left,' he says.”
Kate's pale face became paler, the dark circles about her eyes grew yet more dark. “I think I'll go back to bed, mother,” she said in the same toneless voice.
Pete helped her to the foot of the stairs. The big, moist eyes were looking at her constantly. She found it hard to keep an equal countenance.
“But will you be fit for it, darling?” said Pete.