“And vexed?”
“Yes.”
“Because Peter—if it was Peter—saw me with my arm around thee?”
“He would not know that it was only because I feared the drunken man,” said she.
“He would suspect me, instead, of being thy sweetheart?” asked I.
“Ay,” said she, “Peter hath a long tongue.”
“What if he suspect me aright, Jeannette?”
I felt the hand on my arm give a little start, as she dropped her eyes, and quickened her flagging steps.
She said nothing. But you might have heard the beating of my heart, as I looked down at her, and laid my hand on hers.
“If Peter guessed aright,” repeated I, “what then, Jeannette?”