"Good night," said Molly decidedly to Dave.
"Good night," said Dave, and turned back.
Molly walked on to the wagon, closely followed by Peter. As she climbed in, she turned and caught sight of the little animal, eyeing her wistfully.
"Want to come in?" said she.
Peter jumped to the whiffletree, then upon the seat, then into the wagon. Molly followed.
"Peter," said she, "we won't do that any more. I don't believe it's a good scheme. What do you think, dog?"
Peter wagged his stump of a tail, but as it was quite dark, this expression of approval was lost. "I hope he won't say anything about it," she went on reflectively. "But if he does"—she tossed her head—"much good may it do any of them!" Then, after some time, "Peter, let's go to sleep."
Peter whined with content.