I'll begin by
taking up a collection this very day. In the meantime, Felicia,
I'll just keep on to Jack's and see how his arm's getting on and
his head. As to his heart,--I'll talk to Ruth and see--"
"Are you crazy, Peter? You will do nothing of the kind. If you do,
I will--"
But Peter, his hat in the air, was now out of hearing. When he
reached the mud line he turned, drew his umbrella as if from an
imaginary scabbard, made a military salute, and, with a suppressed
gurgle in his throat, kept on to Jack's room.
Somehow the sunshine had crept into the old fellow's veins this
morning. None of Miss Felicia's pins for him!
Ruth, from her place by the sitting-room window, had seen the two
talking and had opened the front door, before Miss Felicia's hand
touched the bell. She had already subjected Peter to a running
fire of questions while he was taking his coffee and thus had the
latest intelligence down to the moment when Peter turned low
Jack's light and had tucked him in. He was asleep when Peter had
peered into his cramped room early this morning, and the bulletin
therefore could go no further.
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