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Updated: June 8, 2025
It had all been arranged that they were to go to Peter's quarters, and get some sleep. These were less than eight blocks away, but the parting was very terrific! However, it had to be done, and so it was gone through with. Hard as it was, Peter had presence of mind enough to say, through the carriage window. "You had better take my room, Miss D'Alloi, for the spare room is the largest.
D'Alloi snuggled up to Watts in the pleasantest frame of mind. Watts leaned over and kissed her cheek. Then Mrs. D'Alloi snuggled some more. "Now, I want to talk with you seriously, dear," he said. "Who do you think is downstairs?" "Who?" "Dear old Peter. And what do you think he's come for!" "What?" "Dot." "For what?" "He wants our consent, dear, to pay his addresses to Leonore." "Oh, Watts!"
So earnest was he, and so spell-bound were the others, that they failed to hear the door from the dining-room move, or notice the entrance of Mrs. D'Alloi as Peter ended his plea. A moment's silence followed Peter's outburst of feeling. Then the Frenchwoman cried: "Truly, truly. But what will you do for me and my child? Haven't we been ill-treated? Don't you owe us help, too? Justice?
"Now she invites me to Grey-Court." "Then it wasn't anything?" "She had misjudged me." "Now, tell me what it was." "Miss D'Alloi, I know you do not mean it," said Peter, "but you are paining me greatly. There is nothing in my whole life so bitter to me as what you ask me to tell." "Oh, Peter," said Leonore, "I beg your pardon. I was very thoughtless!"
Yet Peter had had as pressing an invitation and as warm a welcome at Mr. Pierce's country place as had any of the house-party ingathered during the first week of July. Clearly something made him of value to the owner of the Shrubberies. That something was his chum, Watts D'Alloi.
"You know he's the man who made that splendid speech when the poor children were poisoned summer before last." "I can't believe it!" "It's so. That is the way I came to know him." Miss Leroy laughed. "And Helen said he was a man who needed help in talking!" "Was Mrs. D'Alloi a great friend of his?" "No. She told me that Watts had brought him to see them only once. I don't think Mr.
They wouldn't believe otherwise, no matter what I said. If you think a man is a scoundrel, you are not going to believe his word." "But, Peter," said Mrs. D'Alloi, "you ought to deny them for the future. After you and your friends are dead, people will go back to the newspapers, and see what they said about you, and then will misjudge you." "I am not afraid of that.
Peter rose, speaking in a voice ringing with scorn. "You would escape your sin, to leave it with added disgrace for your wife and daughter to bear! Put up your pistol, Watts D'Alloi. If I am to help you, I want to help a man not a skulker. What do you want me to do?" "That's what I wish to know. What can I do?" "You have offered her money?" "Yes. I told her that "
If we had our choice between a new, bright, keen tool, or a worn, dull one, of poor material, we should not hesitate which to use. But if we only have the latter, how foolish to refuse to employ it as we may, because we know there are in the world a few better ones." "Is not condoning a man's sins, by failing to blame him, direct encouragement to them?" said Mrs. D'Alloi.
She turned her chair from Watts and faced Peter, as he stood at the study table. Peter paused a moment, and then said: "After what I have seen, I feel sure you wish only to revenge yourself on Mr. D'Alloi?" "Yes." "Now let me show you what you will do. For the last two days Mr. D'Alloi has carried a pistol in his pocket, and if you disgrace him he will probably shoot himself." "Bon!"
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